Take My Hand
by GreenPen42
Summary: If people didn't lie, there wouldn't be anger, sadness, tears, war, and the word betrayal. But then again, if people didn't lie, then I wouldn't have been able to dream, and dreaming only led me to you. Tell me, is that a good thing?
1. Mother and Dad

So, this is my third story! Just hope this one continues for a long time. Enjoy!(:  
>DISCLAIMER: I do not own Gakuen Alice. I am not genius enough to.<p>

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><p><span>Chapter 1: Mother and Dad<span>

There was a man who once told me _'It's not about where you come from, it's not about the journey, nor is it about where you end up. Just make sure along the way, you will always remember what's important. Never lose the reason of why you're doing what you've done.'_

I've lived by those words. They lighted my path as I continue to walk it's unforeseen road. And while I do, I held the man's hand. His wisdom echoed and echoed in my mind with every step we took together. We faltered, but we stood back up. We doubted, but regained our trust. We sometimes grew uneven, but we eventually found our balance once more.

It was perfection. Bliss.

Too bad neither of these lasts forever.

I wasn't spoiled; maybe forever interprets it wrong. I expected my happiness to remain within the passing years. Possibly, at minimum, a hundred. It was no where close to forever, but it would suffice.

But I found out that those were just empty words. It's hard to keep heaven near you, especially when your hopes and dreams takes you to millions of places.

His took him far away home. Not a physical house; with furniture, kitchen and bedrooms. Home as in himself. Where he found comfort in. Where he would always come back to if he made too many mistakes. Where he knew I would be waiting. His dreams were far too big for him to contain. Though, he did so anyways. He forced himself to fulfill them. And therefore, braking the person he once was in the process. What he didn't know was that he broke me as well.

Happiness for me only lasted a disappointingly small time. And since it was so fun, it felt even shorter. It drove me away from resenting myself. I smiled a lot more back then than I rarely do now. So when my golden time ended, I fell into the darkness harder than I know I ever will in the future. I can recall him saying another phrase that also made me feel so, so wise.

_'Once you've climbed you way to the top, there's no other way but to fumble straight down.'_

What a long way the bottom was.

I am Sakura Mikan. A simple girl, with the biggest wish to be as normal as a fifteen year old could be.

It's not a dream; not like his. Because, you see, I already knew that I could never achieve it. No matter how much integrity I put into it.

The simple, plain truth of it all is that I can read minds. My Dad is one of the world's richest billionaires. And I have no Mother.

I wonder how much farther can God pull me away from the quiet life of an average human?

It all started, apparently, from the day I was born. I weighted six pounds and nine ounces. Normal. I cried when they cut my umbilical chord. I stopped when my Mother held me in her warm arms for the first time. I slightly smiled when she said "You're really, really beautiful, Mikan". It's not that I remember these happening; Mother often told me of the miracle of my birth.

We started our lives in an apartment in a small town in Michigan. It was okay, though it leaned more to being rundown than excellent. I didn't have anything to compare it with, it being my first home and all, so it was lovely to me, regardless of what others think. I attended Rosecopper Elementary school. It's one of those neighborhood schools, where only the people around know it existed. It stood on a corner and took about four blocks. It's not very big. But it was fun. If I can recall correctly, I was friends with almost anyone in my 2nd grade years. It didn't count as being popular because I'm pretty sure it's common that 2nd graders all get along well.

Dad worked in an office during the night, while Mother baked cupcakes during the day. Not for me, she ran a shop. It was pretty well known around the town because Mother's cupcakes were _killer._ And that fact caused everyone to think that she's an amazing cook.

Her blood flowing in my veins and all, I knew from the start that she was shockingly terrible with anything besides cupcakes.

That's why I didn't mind not seeing Mother during the day. For one, Dad can cook meals that don't send your tastebuds in a life-threatening roller coaster. Secondly, he was already enough. He would drop me off at school, and see me until I disappeared through it's gates, always yelling, "Have fun, baby!" He cleaned the house and help me with my homework and put me to sleep by reading a bedtime story. Though he looked ferociously manly and muscular, he had an unexpectedly maternal side to him.

As for Mother, she didn't miss me much either. She would always be home in time when Dad was beginning to read the last lines of the bedtime story. He would let her take over, and before I blacked out to a nice sleep, the angelic ring of her voice would fill my ears. That alone was able to make up all those times when she was't there for me. I loved her as much as I could for Dad.

So bottom line, I shared a splendid bond with my parents.

But as I said, perfection, bliss; none of those could last a very long time.

When I first found out about my special ability, I was in the middle of a 3rd grade test. I didn't get a chance to study for it the night before, so I was in a situation that I always seem to find myself in every time tests came up. But this one was different. Benchmark. It decides whether you have to take summer school or not. I couldn't, ever, be in that. Not this year. My parents and I were planning to take a two-week vacation at my Grandpa's house in Florida, who I haven't seen since I was three. It just so happens that summer school was starting at the last week of my vacation. Knowing my parents, they would choose my education over anything else.

So, there I sat, fussing out on the piece of paper which asked me questions that boggled my mind to no end. And then it happened.

Thoughts began to fill my head. The more they occupied into me, the more I slowly figured out they don't belong to me. Only because most of them were way too smart for me to think of. Some of them had answers to the test. Others were random and what most 3rd graders would think of.

In the end, I still failed the test. Even when success was laid out in front of me. But hey, I was nine, and I had no idea what was going on. Yeah, I had to take summer school. And yeah, we didn't get the chance to visit Grandpa in Florida.

After that, I experimented more, with my newly discovered talent. At first, I had no clue what it was, what to call it, nor did I know how to do it again. My young age and therefore, young imagination, pushed me to believing that I was some sort of an alien from galaxies away. But I was also in the stage of my youth where I started to watch movies. I came upon one where I finally made sure of my ability. There was this young boy who experienced the same things as me, asked the same questions as I did. It was called mind-reading. And according to the movie, the only way I could do it once more was to focus. But focus on what?

"Minds," an actor from the movie said to the boy. "People's minds. Animal's minds. This is a unique ability, Gunther. You could do anything and everything imaginable with it. You just have to focus on their minds; make yourself accept that you can read them as if they're a clear book. And before you know it, you're inside of their souls."

That was how I was able to master my skill. Well, not master, but train it. The first takeoff was rough. When I tried to read some lady's mind I found walking on the street, something blew up in my head and I immediately received a one-week migraine. I was scared to attempt it again. But ten days after my migraine was completely gone, I somehow found the courage to take another shot at it.

Mother and Dad turned out smooth. I was able to go into them and know whatever they knew. Maybe it's because I was familiar with them. I don't know. That was the only explanation I could come up with. So, I practiced on them. Mother didn't have to remind me to go brush my teeth, since used to always forgot. I would always suggest eating out before she could utter the words 'I'll', 'make', and 'dinner' in the same sentence. Dad didn't lose his train of thought anymore; I was there to put him back on. And it wasn't necessary to Dad to cook breakfast, lunch, or dinner by himself. With my newly found powers, I quickly caught up on what steps to take to make whatever dish he wanted to make.

Both of them had wondered where I learned to be such a good chef. I answered, "Chef exaggerates it. I just took after Dad."

I got a hard slap in the back of the head from Mother because of that.

By the time a year has passed, I had gotten good control of my mind-reading.

Two years; great.

Three; phenomenal.

Half a year after the third one; I hated it.

Practice was supposed to make things better. It's supposed to bring your abilities to a much more advanced stage.

It did. By the time I was twelve, I could read anyone, everyone; anything and everything. With just one touch, a person's past and future is revealed to me. Lie was a naked word in front of my eyes. Nothing could be hidden if it was trying to hide away from me. I knew the reality of it all.

And that's why I came to resent my power. Ironically, I had progressed to so far, that it grew up to be its own. Slowly and idly, but somewhat abruptly, mind-reading became hard to turn off and on. Sooner or later, it had been permanently stuck on the 'on' switch. It wouldn't bother be me that much if I was in a closed, un-populated closet; that'd be fine. But, unfortunately, I was a child approaching her teenage years. I had friends. I went to school, malls, restaurants, and church. I had a life. And I had to live it with other people. Hearing thousands of endless thoughts inside my head was no choice for me.

I was afraid to touch people. I was petrified to hug my best friends goodbye. If at least a centimeter if their molecules came in contact with my skin, I would see whatever hides behind their past and what awaits their future. This is definitely a curse, because sometimes kids have more to what than they seem.

Cody had been abused, physically and mentally, by his guardian sister. Robert, as well as Lilia, have been through the horror of seeing both their parents die in front of them. Lilia would lose her thumb a month from then.

And because of the unnatural actions my power forced me to take, my friends started to avoid me, one by one. They told me that I became more distant. That I sometimes looked at someone in a freaky way. How badly I wanted to tell them of my condition, and how I wished I didn't have it because by unintentionally seeing their secrets, I felt as if I had invaded their privacy. But I couldn't. I was scared. If they knew the validity of Mikan Sakura, I know they would steer away even more. They looked at me as if I was some some sort of alien from galaxies away. And unlike me, they would still continue to see that even if they saw the movie that started my nightmare.

Without my friends, this twisted life of mine got incredibly difficult to live though each day.

And little did I know, they weren't the only people I would be losing.

Mother and Dad knew about it as well. I had decided to tell them around the second year. At first, they refused to listen to me, and even suggested I go to the emergency room for I was not the kind of twelve-year old to make up such stories. But, they gradually came to accept it when I always blurted out whatever they were thinking. Like all the others, I was distressed about them knowing. I had many conflicts with myself about whether they should find out or not. But they were my flesh and blood parents. They would never leave me, for they would get arrested if they did anyways. But, above that, they loved me.

They were special, too. Although I couldn't not read their minds like others, nothing happened when I touched them. Hugged them. For some reason, they were the only ones in my life that nullified half of my abilities. When I found that out, I thanked the heavens and the stars for letting me feel the warmth of another human without anything occurring. Back then, it was the best thing that I could ever hope and dream for.

But that was back then.

One night, Mother closed the shop for the entire day and Dad went to work early. The home contained only her and I, for the first time ever since she owned her bakery. It felt so peaceful with her there. When I finished homework with her help, we lounged back in the couch while Lion King was on. She made her oh-so-famous cupcakes, and I brewed my somewhat-as-famous hot chocolate.

We nuzzled together in the comforting darkness, enjoying each other's company that we had missed so much. I thought that nothing could ruin our moment.

Well, apparently, something did. And as soon as they barged in into our home without enough curtesy to knock, I discovered they were _someone _instead_. _They were men dressed, oddly enough, in white. They had no shades on, unlike the normal burglars, and they showed no effort to hide their faces. They wore suits that looked made them look like they belonged in the White House, instead of my mediocre home.

Mom screamed as the three of them entered the living room, barely leaving space with their buff bodies. One of them stalked up to us, threw the blanket we had on us on the floor, and reached for me, to my utter, complete shock. Mother instinctively held out an arm in front of me, locking my eyes as she yelled for us to run.

We barely slipped passed under the man's arm as we made way upstairs, her hand still gripped unto my wrist so strongly that I knew it would leave a bruise later. We clumsily scrambled up the steps, me following in her lead. I asked her what was going on. But she didn't reply; she kept running and running towards the master bedroom, with the men on our trails.

We hid in the closet and locked the door once we were both inside. I asked her again what was happening. I could see the faint light in her hazel brown eyes as she turned to me. _You're reading my mind right? Well, don't talk. I have no idea who they are, or why they're here, either. Mikan, are they here…because of you?_

I knew what she was trying to say. I furiously shook my head, but deep inside I was unsure of it myself. I was glad that she didn't have my power; if she knew of my doubt, the last pillar of security that's holding both of us will crumble.

Knocks came from outside the door instantly, and Mother crawled over to me, wrapping her arms around my shivering body. _It's okay, shh. It's okay. _She stroked my hair to calm me down every time a loud bang was heard. A man's voice called out to us, saying my name in a deep, booming voice that sent even Mother's spine cowardly arching. We moved closer to the back wall as they knocked more emphatic each time the clock rang.

_'We only need the girl,'_ the man said in a firm tone. Mother hugged me closer to her body, almost pushing me behind her.

_Mikan, they _are_ here for you. Did you say anything unnecessary to anyone? Your friends? _

I managed to whimper in denial.

_ Shh, don't make a noise. Listen, we both need to get out of here; at the very least, you. Once they open the door, I'll fight them off and you make a run for it. Anywhere. Outside. Just get as as far- _I clutched the fabric around her shoulders, making her stop. I looked up to her eyes, which were crazed and lost despite the calm tone she thought in. I bit my lip and shook my head as persistently as I could. She couldn't do this for me, and I was determined that she won't.

_Mikan, baby, we can't just let them take you to who knows where. It's a mother's job to protect her one and only daughter._ She smiled, and in the faint dim of the room, I saw a tear trickle down the side of her melancholic face. _You run out of this house and call for help. I swear I'll be right behind you. Oh, and next time, call me 'Mom'._

The next few scenes were a blur, as if they were played out in slow-motion, one-frame pictures.

The men kicked at the door, and as it fell, they were revealed to us, though more menacing and portent than before.

Mother lunged at them, shrieking.

My legs were somehow working, and I was able to dive between a pair of legs as I sprinted towards the door.

But halfway through, I heard metallic blasts which was followed by a screechy grunt, forcing me to look back.

Mother plummeted backwards with three bullets being shot through her. One at her heart, another piercing the side of her stomach, and the last inserted itself in the space between her brows.

Before I could do anything else, I screamed. A pained scream; a regretful scream; a reminiscing scream. I watched fully as blood began to fill her surroundings, her hair swirling around her deadly face.

The men all circled to me, their guns still visible in their hands. I couldn't feel anxiety or terror in my veins anymore. I couldn't even find the anger, rage, fury, animosity, and pure killing intent that I should have when I stared into their dark, black eyes. There was nothing in me. Seeing Mother closer to the people who stole her life than me, provoked me to such a level that I couldn't even cry.

I just screamed and screamed. And screamed in the darkness of the night.

That was my last memory during that time. The next thing I could remember was the young, but exhausted and weary face of Dad. He wasn't wearing his usual smile. He had shady bags under his eyes, and his unshaved cheeks were hollow. He was on his knees, looking up at me with deceased expression I have never seen him on before.

'_There is only one way to atone for your sins, Mikan.'_ His voice was raspy, as if he hadn't drank water in months. Or eaten at all.

_'What is it, Dad?'_ I was trying so, so hard not to let a single drop of tear out. Though, I was never sure why I was crying.

_'I am going to make my dreams come true, and you're going to help me. That is the only way.'_

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><p>So, it's a <em>littleee<em> long for a prologue...oh well! :D Chapter two coming up soon.  
>Stay smexy!<p> 


	2. Father

_So, as I promised, here's chapter two!(:_  
><em>DISCLAIMER: I do not own Gakuen Alice. I am not swag enough.<em>

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><p><em><span>Chapter Two: Father<span>_

I am in Michigan. The land of beauty. The sun is glory. The clouds are forever at lying about. The birds sing along with the wind's accompaniment. A sea of youthful green grass is laid before me, veiling many that hide in its flowing wake. My road stretches along with the vast, azure sky. I am sucking in the warmth of the heat, as I breathe and taste the natural breeze. I am in Michigan. The land of beauty, and the name of peace.

I haven't heard anyone.

I don't hear anyone.

I will not hear anyone.

I haven't heard anyone.

I don't hear anyone.

I will not hea-

_'Mikan.'_

I snapped my eyes open. My reality became clearer as I heaved a tired sigh from under my breathe. "Yes, Father?" I shifted around in the leather seat, fixing my slugged posture and placing my hair behind my ear.

"You know what to do when we get there?" he said, making it sound more of like a declaration rather than a question. "Keep close."

It took every ounce of self-control I had to not retort back with a smart mouth, for I know that he isn't a man to think twice before hitting me. I glanced over at him. "Yes, Father."

He gave me a stern look before turning ahead. He platted the torso part of his suit and pulled the knot up in his striped tie.

He didn't look good in green stripes.

_''Five million on roulette. Five on poker.'_

I leaned my forehead on the limousine window and watched the city pass by. Everything was about seven shades darker than they naturally are, since Jim decided to get the them tinted two days ago.

And speaking of Jim,

_'Do you turn right here? Ah, yes, I remember thi-Oh no, that's the one for the club. Maybe it's the next street over?'_

I laughed inwardly. Never in his entire life is Father going to find a better driver than good ol' Jim.

The buildings were endless. They stood well over the clouds as they were lined up right beside each other. Each individual boxes within it lit up, revealing silhouettes of one or two people. One put something up to his lips; drinking coffee. I saw about three that were merged with other figures; probably working their night away. And countless had two in the room, all of them glued against each other; no doubt that it's just another scandalous office affair.

_'If I can just get Mr. Jones to apply my method, then bre-'_

_ 'Mmm, this man is good…maybe I can sedu- ohh! Rig-'_

_ 'Damn it! Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fu-'_

_ '-ttle? I mean, I have a wife and three children, I just can't abon-'_

I made a note to myself to remember to thank Jim for driving at a fast pace. But thinking about it, I had to also thank the people who made the traffic lights go green the second we were coming up on it.

I drew my eyes to the men and women walking the sidewalks. Most of them had suitcases. Most of them wore suits and dresses that were hidden underneath a heavy, fur or black leather coat. Most of them were entering clubs that had sultry names like 'Kitty-Kats' or 'Naughty 'N Nice'. Most with either a smoke or ten bottles of liquor evidently in their possession.

_'Unicorns, unicorns, unicorns and brocco- Oh hey, boobs!'_

Driving more and more into the main part of the city, I started to spot younger females who wore-oh wait, barely had on- skin-tight dresses that showed an awfully lot of cleavage that they might as well strip down bare naked. They didn't seem to know that it's the middle of winter, nor would they even care. I could see smoke coming out of their breathes without the use of cigarettes. I wondered of they were sane by not bringing at least a jacket.

There were a hundred out of a hundred (or however many I saw dressed like that) girls leaning into the windows of cars that, no doubt, was being driven by a forty-year old geezer. With just one, slight glance, I could tell that they wouldn't need to bend over if it wasn't for the extremely high stilettos they wore. But then again, doing that would allow them to show more cleavage.

_'Oh, how disgusting. He is an absolute manwhore. I swear, I'll get his money and get th-'_

I guess more cleavage, more gain.

There were no more business buildings anymore. What stood in their steed were attractions. As in gambling attractions. Hotels and casinos. They all lit up as if they were trying to blind someone and make the owner of the place go bankrupt. Although they didn't seem as tall as the buildings before (with the exception of some hotels), they did look fancier and more expensive. The adults coming to and fro from their entrances proved that with their black and white attire, along with some ruby-encrusted jewelry.

_'Ahh, damn it.'_

I turned my attention to the head of Jim's seat ten feet in front of me and Father.

"I'm sorry, sir," he called out from over his shoulder. "There is some mild traffic. It will take another ten minutes to get there. Please wait, Mr. Sakura."

Father clicked his tongue. "Don't you know any shortcuts? It's already 11:30," he inquired in an annoyed emphasis.

"I'm sorry, sir. Please bare with me."_ 'It's not like I want this, either. Mikan has school tomorrow, and you're making her go with you.'_

_ 'Stupid driver. He's lived here for more than half his life, and yet he doesn't know his way around Las Vegas. I'll remind Joseph to get me a new one.'_

I smiled and turned to look outside again, for I know Jim would catch me from the rear-view mirror. I felt happiness swell up in me from the consideration an conern he showcased. There was no way I was going to let Father fire him; another mental note I made to myself.

_'Damn, can't I get a taxi here!'_

_'Max, Sherly, Jayden, Neil, Kathlynn, and who else?'_

_'Last Friday night, we went streaking in the park, skinny dipping in the dark, then had a…uh...'_

_'I just had to go overtime. Manny will freak.'_

_'Tomorrow's the day…oh God, I'm so nervous.'_

But I had to admit, I hated traffic as much as Father or anyone else did. I probably loathed it even more for my certain reasons.

And immeasurable abyss of multitudinous thoughts began to crowd my head. And this time, they were complete sentences all jumbled up together. Did I care about any of their problems? Did I want to hear their complaints and adultery crimes? No and no. But I had to, I didn't have a choice or saying in it.

My mind-reading can only go as far as short distances. Thirty feet within my radius is the limit. That's why cars and other forms of transportation were basically my best friend. They have speed which can, at least, get me from location to location. But they come with a bitch, and her name is traffic. Being stuck at one feet per minute in the middle of one of the best tourist attractions around meant that humans are sure to be swarming about. Humans have brains, which then hold their endless ideas.

I'm used to this by now, though. Even if I still receive that stupid, head-cracking migraine I get every time a hoard of people were inside my thirty-feet bubble, I'd learn to reluctantly deal with it. I know that I'm going to have to live with mind-reading for as long as I walk upon this Earth; the littlest I can do is make it more favorable on my part.

I grabbed the handle above my window with a raised arm and leaned my left ear on my shoulder. I was aware that it's not going to help block out those people, but I half of me wished it would because it was getting harder to endure second by minute.

_'Mikan looks tired. Maybe I should take her home before Mr. Sakura.'_

_'Augh! Stupid boss, how dare he fire me!'_

_'But why would he take his fifteen year old daughter to Bellagio, anyways?'_

_'Maybe Manny's already in bed…'_

I began to count sheep in my head, like how children do to make themselves fall asleep. I wasn't trying to sleep; I couldn't anyways with my ability on full blast. But I did want to try to get my mind revving so I wouldn't have to suffer my headache as much.

One sheep.

_'It's really late. I should probably get home soon.'_

Two sheep.

_'Shit! I forgot it's our anniversary!_'

Three sheep.

'_Mikan, we're playing Roulette and Poker tonight. Do not slack off, I'm planning to use the money I earn tonight for a big investment.'_

Four, big-assed motherfucker of a Goddamn sheep.

Oh well, my migraine is back.

It was exactly seventeen minutes until we arrived at Bellagio. It didn't feel like 'forever', as some would phrase it when they weren't enjoying their time; it was exactly seventeen minutes. I wouldn't want it to feel like forever, for that was an awfully long time. Wouldn't they rather spend seventeen minutes of agonizing torture instead of 'forever'?

Jim drove in front of the entrance, where there were plenty of valet at work. One managed to get a look at Father's face through the tinted windows, and he instantaneously opened the car door for him with alerted gestures, but then remembering to do it with politeness a second later. Another, a man as old as Jim, made his way at the rear back and opened mine. I stepped out and looked over the roof of the car, seeing Father already starting to greet some people as he made his way inside.

I thanked both the men (for I figured Father didn't have the curtesy to) and trailed after him, speed-walking with as much femininity in my heels as I could. I held my amethyst, body-length dress in one hand so the extended bottom would stop skidding the floor.

When I had caught up to him, I slowed my pace and fell in step with his feet. I made sure to walk not beside his shoulders, but behind and with a little space between us. I wouldn't want anyone thinking I'm his mistress or anything absurd like that. I dropped my dress and used my now free hand to tuck my hair over to one shoulder.

Two doormen opened the double doors when we strided towards it. A gust of wind hit me and made the hair along the sides of my face flutter back. My first whiff hinted the familiar aroma of alcohol, mixed with the regret of losing and the pride of winning. I also smelled cocktails.

As ever, Bellagio was as alive and brightly lighted. The clear-ceilinged roofs were high beyond my head, and its balconies were occupied with men and women either sucking on each other's face or having a drink. Everywhere I looked, the slot machines were at use, and every other place where you could gamble was full. Pairs of shoes that probably amounted to more than a hundred thousand continue to walk every inch of this palace, from dealer to dealer.

It's a heaven for anyone yearning the good life. And no more than two steps within the place, I already wanted to go home.

'_Oh, it's Mr. Sakura!'_

_'Mr. Sakura!'_

_'I wonder how much he has in that big suitcase his bodyguard is holding.'_

I peaked to the left of Father. Surely enough, there's a redheaded man beside him that I've never noticed until now.

_'I should go greet him. Where's Josie?'_

_'Mr. Sakura, as I expected.'_

I followed in the wake of Father as he was being greeted by his countless colleagues, or people that just wanted to suck up to him. Some looked over to me and asked if I was his date for tonight. I held my disgust and remorse in as he answered for me, though lacking the irritation I would've given.

"No. She is my twenty-one year old daughter."

A younger male eyed me evaluatingly from head to toe, as if he imagined my body without any clothing whatsoever. "Oh, I see." He held out his hand. "Nice to meet you, my lady. I am Leo Francis. My dad is the CEO of Francis Enterprises."

_I'm getting in bed with her tonight._

No, you're not. You're ugly and hideous.

I slipped my hand in his as he kissed my knuckles. "Pleasure is mine," I said as Father and his bodyguard, Drey, started towards the roulette table.

"I'll see you around then," he whispered, sending a wink.

I swatted the air as if it was real. He raised an eyebrow questioningly. "There was a fly. And Yes, I hope so."

It's easy acting as Father's twenty-one year old child. When I wore ten pounds of make-up and dressed in mature clothing and fancy shoes, I could pass for twenty-five. It's not like I wanted to; I hated the way my face and body seemed to sag sometimes when I felt all the weight of money that was spent for my casino night appearance. But I couldn't get in if I looked six years younger than what they thought I was, and Father needed me whenever he made a local trip to Bellagio.

And there is only one reason why he always brought me, no matter the time and day.

I followed Father as he exchanged his cash into casino chips. Afterwards, he lead me to the roulette table, which was perched on top of a stage that had many on-lookers.

_'Mikan Sakura is really lovely.'_

_'100,00 chips? What a man.'_

I pushed my temple with a finger, and it throbbed and throbbed against my skin.

Drey gently placed the chips in front of Father, who was being greeted by the dealer.

"Welcome back, Mr. Sakura. How much will it be today?"

Father patted the space next to the chips. He took out a cigarette and beckoned for Drey to light it. "One hundred."

The dealer smiled. "Ten million right off the bat, huh? As expected of you, Mr. Sakura," he complimented. I think.

I took a seat next to Father with my hands folded in my lap. I eyed the dealer, mostly focusing on his arms and fingers.

Out of all the thoughts that filled my head, one stood out and I was able to read it crystal clear. _'Mikan, tell me as soon as he spins.'_

I nodded over to him. "I know. You don't have to tell me. It's not my first time."

"Then, here goes," affirmed the dealer.

I carefully watched as he spun the roulette and rolled the ball in, all happening in slow motion in my eyes. I took note of how his forearm muscles slightly flexed as his pointer and index fingers bended at 42 degree angle. Then I turned to the ball. I estimated that it rolled with a minimum speed of four inches per second around the perimeter of the circle. They were thirty six possible outcomes with certain numbers. Eighteen with black or red, as well as odd or even.

_'Mikan.'_

I sighed. I leaned over to Father, making it look as if I dropped something at his feet. "Twenty-four," I whispered as I came back up.

He took no hesitation in placing his ten million dollar chips into the square on the table of the number I just mentioned, earning him a couple of impressed hollers and whistles. Some catcalls, but I'm guessing adults these days have nothing better to do than get high.

_'Wow, all of them?'_

Father picked at his nails as he patiently waited for the ball to land on his appointed assumption. I looked down at the gathering crowd around us, and fought off a smirk. They jittered on their feet and watched as if it was their ten million that was being betted. Women were mostly gathered on the sidelines.

_'I'll be the first one to get him once he steps down.'_

_'Ugh. He's old, but his money can be as young as a newborn.'_

_'I hope that's not his date beside him.'_

I whipped around in my seat and was going to yell a couple of curses I had in mind if it wasn't for them suddenly leaning in on their toes.

I circled back around and saw that the roulette had stopped spinning, and it was only the ball that was in motion.

Father breathed out a big, white cloud of smoke as I covered my nose and mouth in disgust.

The ball slowly skidded to a halt on a slot with the label twenty-four.

Cheer, cheer. Some more obnoxious hollering.

The dealer paid Father thirty-six fold than what he betted. Making Drey carry all the chips again, he stood up and walked off the stage with me, as usual, trailing him like a lost puppy.

_'Wow! He really did it!'_

_'That's it. I'm making a move on this man.'_

Waves of nausea hit me as soon as I took my final step off the stage stairs and entered the group of congratulating drunkards. It was enough that I inhaled beer, but going inside the mind of those who consumed it was absolutely terrible.

_'Mikan. I'm getting a drink first. Then we're playing poker.'_

I gazed downwards, and for the first time this night, I really felt like I was the walking dead.

Yes, Father.

* * *

><p>I flopped down on my bed with outstretched limbs. I took the essence of my life as I breathed in with my face buried deeply in my pillow. Then exhaling, I turned so that I was on my back and that my eyes locked on the crystal chandelier hanging above me.<p>

I tried counting the how many diamonds it had, but I already knew the answer since I've done it a thousand times.

A hundred and fifty-six.

I shifted my stare onto the picture frame that was resting onto my bedside table. I used my arms to help me sit up, and I grabbed the frame and hugged it.

"Hi, Mom," I murmured as I trailed her smiling jaw. I half-assumed that I would feel her bumpy, rough face; though it looked flawless, I knew that she was a victim of acne when she was young. But underneath my shaking fingertips, I only felt the cool glide of the glass that secured her under.

"Father won again," I stated with my head descending on the pillow again and Mom held towards my ceiling. "I lost track of how much money he had when we left the casino. But, of course, he couldn't have done it without me. Mom? ...I feel like a cheater."

She was still in my hands as I made my way across my room and into my private bathroom. I placed her on the sink counter, far enough so that when I washed my face to rid of all the crap those so-called 'professional make-up artists' splattered on me, she wouldn't get a drop on her.

I splashed water on my face three times, each as if they covered my unshed tears. I tilted my neck, meeting these amazing, thoughtful hazel eyes that seemed like they could see past time in the mirror. They had a steady stare; unfaltering and brave. But they were corrupted by smeared eyeliner, mascara, eyeshadow, foundation, powder, lipstick, lipgloss. They were corrupted by the truth, and how it all fell on her shoulders.

Frowning, I showered my reflection with tap water and secured Mom and trotted out, not bothering to wipe my face. I settled once more on my bed, but I remained sitting up as I examined Mom, grinning as I always found her, while she held her cupcake. The oh-so famous Sakura cupcakes.

"I miss you."

It's been three years since Mom's death. Thirty-six months since I last saw those who took her life. And 8,024, long hours since Father had become a changed person.

After that fateful night, I don't remember how he reacted when he walked into the house and saw the bloody body of the woman he loves. Actually, I'd prefer to keep it that way. If I was so unfortunate as to simply watch as he cradled her in his arms with the hopeless prayer for her to come alive, I would've committed suicide by now. Because, after all this time, I had always felt like this was my fault. As if everything was my fault the moment I started breathing my own air.

_'We only need the girl.'_

That certain voice is the one that trigers my constant nightmares. I'm always running away from the words as they chase me in the depths of hell. I wore white clothes which were dirtied by Mom's blood. I don't know how I knew, but my mind controlled me to believing it was.

The men only needed _'me'_. No one else; not Mom, or Father. Just '_me_'.

Yet, they took her. And they took Dad.

I don't call him Dad. Not anymore. He died along with Mom, and from him was born someone known as _'Father'_.

_'Father'_ doesn't smile. He doesn't cook delicious food, for he hired chefs to do it for him. He doesn't read me bedtime stories. He doesn't help me with homework. He doesn't drop me off at school and see me until I disappeared within the gates. He doesn't say, "Have fun, baby!" He does't touch me. He doesn't hug me. He doesn't talk to me unless it was about gambling and how I'd be useful to earn him money.

But it's not what he doesn't do, it's what he does that made him so different.

He smokes. Hours and hours a day. Obviously, he gambles with his and my life on the line. He treats everything as if it was a game, and he had the joystick smack in the middle of his hands.

'_There is only one way to atone for your sins, Mikan.' His voice was raspy, as if he hand't drank water in months. Or eaten at all._

_ 'What is it, Dad?' I was trying so, so hard not to let a single drop of tear out. Though, I was never sure why I was crying._

_ '__I am going to make my dreams come true, and you're going to help me. That is the only way.'_

I know that he is using me. He's using my guilt from the accident to manipulate my scarred heart. I know every detail, since the truth cannot be hidden if it's trying to hide away from me.

But despite my knowledge, I continue to let him do whatever he wants. Not because I'm some cheap, billionaire's daughter who can't live and survive without one cent of her parent's money, but because he has nothing left. It's ironic, really; a man who owns everything has nothing to fight for. I'm the last person in his life that cares enough to keep him going.

Mom would've wanted me to do the same. I am positive that although the man she knew was locked away without a key, the man that stands today is still part of the man she loves. Not loved; loves. And the least I can do for her is love him in her place.

But, Mom? It's hard. It's really, really…so, so hard.

"After three years living with him, I still haven't gotten to know Father. Maybe it's because this mansion is too big to only contain the two of us? Possibly. We eat dinner together, though we're separated by twenty feet of table and empty chairs. I don't think he knows about Hotaru, either. She's this girl that goes to my school, Mom. I'll tell you about her later, but she's super amazing and she's my best friend. She knows that I can read minds. And she acts like I don't have it, which I love because it makes me feel like one of the girls. Oh, wait, I'm already talking about her."

My vision flickered over to the clock, which read 2:30. Reminding myself that I had school tomorrow-how exciting- I put Mom back down on the table and began to tuck myself in.

"Goodnight, Mom." I placed my hand on my stomach, feeling a scratchy something prick me. It was only then that I noticed I still had my gown on.

But it was too late. My body had felt the sweet sensation of the softness my bed offered. My legs refused to move as I tried to swing them over to the side.

Oh, well. I'll change after my four hours of sleep is up.

* * *

><p>Okay, okay! I bet some of you are wondering when Natsume will come in. I promise you guys, he is one of the main characters in this story, next to Mikan, but it's going to be another..two chapters I think? , Just put up with itt please! It's also killing me not writing about him -,-<br>OH! And next chapter is when our story really begins ;) So look out for another update! School is tomorrow, like my first day of eight grade (boringg...) so I probably won't get to write as muchh. Thanks for reading you guys(:  
>Stay sm-<br>WAAAAIT. Haha, I have to tell you guys a story x) So you know the part when Mikan plays roulette and stuff? Actually, at first I was clueless at casino games. I originally wrote it so that she plays blackjack instead, but I had no idea how to play that game. I tried learning online by this video called "BLACKJACK FOR BEGINNERS", but it got waay too confusing. So I rewrote it to be roulette. But, guess what? I didn't know how to play that either! xD But, thank God, I found Hana Yori Dango: The Movie uploaded on Youtube, and I remembered that Tsukasa and Makino have this scene where they play roulette(: So yeah, that part in this chapter is basically based on that ;D (Thank you Tsukasa for being smart for once!)  
>Okay, NOW, stay smexy!<br>(...Psst. I bet I pissed you all off with my long-ass author's note. Well, for those that are generous enough to read this to the end, I have something to tell you...I had to learn online poker, too.)


	3. Decision?

Oh, my goodness. I cannot comprehend how sorry I am for taking so long to update. It's just that 8th grade is busier than I thought, and I'm always tempted to go out with my friends x) I'm so, so, so , SO sorry you guys! But anyways, enjoy!(:

* * *

><p><span>Chapter Three: Decision?<span>

Lore'Ale Academy. A high school with a campus so astoundingly wide and spacious that you need a map to simply get from classroom to classroom. Which, I should point out, is probably larger than the average american home. Every one of its doors are lined with gold and silver designs made only by the best artists in the country. Even the knobs are made from pure and rare granite. The library, or should I say one of the hundreds of libraries, contain well over the number of books that could be found within the face of the Earth. Both visuals and sign languages. But it's not the actual school that makes it so famous in the entire east side of the world; the reason is its most refined, well-bred, and just the best anyone can offer as students. They're the sons and daughters of major CEO's, company heads, court judges, and once in a while the child of the Queen or President enrolls. And because the qualifications to study in Lore'Ale are extremely narrow and strict, its student body count is only 31% of a local high school.

Yet, with this school, it seems that the lower the population, the bigger the campus.

Spoiled, rich snobs.

But I shouldn't say anything. I'd be a hypocrite if I did.

I am Sakura Mikan, a sophomore at Lore'Ale Academy.

Let me just get this in. I didn't enroll here because I wanted to; it was against my will. Schools are the horror to my reality. Just thinking about hearing what's inside the minds of those prissy teenagers for seven hours straight makes me want to go hide under a tree and cry. But Father, as demanding as he is, forced me to attend. If I didn't, people might get the idea that I'm too stupid to go to a real school, or I'm one of those problem children. They start rumors, basically. Rumors gets to the paparazzi, which then publish them to make the whole world think they're true. They are the one thing Father hates deeply, especially if they're about him. Once the society begins to portray him badly because of my sole self, I'm pretty damn sure he would disown me and drop me off in the Bermuda Triangle.

And, no, it's not one of those times when kids exaggerate about what kind of punishment they're parents are going to give them. Father would definitely do it. One; he has more than enough money to rent the helicopter to deliver me and blackmail whoever witnessed it to not speak a word. Two; he just grew that apart from me as my only remaining blood parent.

Funny how things change after three measly years.

"Madam Mikan," Jim addressed. "Would you prefer it here or closer to the entrance? I can call someone."

I looked out the front windshield and saw a long line of black, slick cars waiting for the school valet to open their door for them. And since they were all limousines, it extended further than thrice what it should be. "No," I replied, scooting next to the door. "I can walk."

"Are you sure, Mad-"

"Just Mikan is fine, Jim. And yup, it's not that far anyways." I clicked the handle open and stepped out, swinging my backpack over my shoulder. I'm probably the only student here to use a proper backpack; others bring Chanel purses or handbags. Some don't bring anything at all.

I flattened my skirt and glanced down at my stomach to make sure I have my blouse and uniform vest properly buttoned. Then I closed the car door I exited from and walked up to the passenger seat window and beckoned for Jim to press it down.

He stopped halfway. "Yes?" he inquired as he leaned towards me a bit.

"Do me a favor, and cut through through everyone. It would make me feel bad if you have to wait another thirty minutes in this nuthole."

He hid his laugh, but I saw his smile crystal clear. "Will do. Have a good day, Ma-Mikan."

I beamed him a thankful grin and poked my head out as he closed the window. He bowed slightly as he backed up and then shifted gears. I watched him from the drop-off area while he drove away, sneakily maneuvering his way through all the cars, earning a few rude honks here and there. Once the familiar shine of the back of his car turned at a corner where I was no longer able to see it, I circled on my heels and began heading to the entrance.

_'Uggh.'_

_'Freaking hate morning traffic.'_

_'At least I'll have an excuse for being late.'_

I shrugged my shoulders and pointed my gaze downwards, fighting off the minuscule throb of a headache . I knew it going to be a long, long day if I'm already this irritated at a few remarks.

I passed a sidelong glance at the cars I came by, only to be encountered by some stares in return.

_'Ew. It's her.'_

_'What the? There were no valet back there; don't tell me she opened the door herself?'_

Actually, I did. Thank the Gods I'm alive at the moment.

It was longer of a way than I thought to make it to the front of Lore'Ale. By the time I arrived, the continuous chime of the bell had rung, and I only had ten minutes to get to biology.

I peeked through the gates and spotted a flock of students in the usual morning rush. Chatting, laughing, not caring that they have to get to class already. I begged my head to not explode so early in the morning, as I stepped in and dragged myself to the battlefield.

_'Huh? Where's Adam?'_

_'-cause he's not a friggin' rice lover and that's so stupid.'_

_'Ahh, it hurts. Why did my period come today? Damn it.'_

_'Lollipop. Lollipop. Gum, gum, gum. I want ten of those; I want some!'_

I gripped on my backpack strap. Harder, and harder by each thought that invaded me; so hard that the fabric felt like it would burn through my skin. About three more feet until I'm in the dead center of this mess.

_'Oh, crap.'_

_'Hm?'_

_'G, C, Em, F#…it's Sakura Mikan.'_

_'Ew. Ew. Don't touch me. Please.'_

People began to steer clear of me as soon as they noticed my presence coming close. It was only a few at start, but that alone initiated a chain reaction. It's not like they made those cheesy, stupid aisles that the loser always walks down by themselves; I was simply avoided. Only that. As if I carried some incurable disease within me.

At the thought, my pace quickened.

_'Aha, she's actually going to class?'_

_'Nerd.'_

_'Nerd.'_

_'Loser.'_

_'Bitch princess.'_

_'Loser.'_

Without my permission, my feet were now at a jogging stage. I didn't care for what they call me at all. Just that it was so many at once. And the problem about it, it's all the same thing; either nerd, or loser. Some creative, but that's only one out of ten thousand. If I hear indifferent thoughts at indifferent times coming from the largest group of indifferent kids, I'm bound to get an agonizing migraine. I'm bound to.

The crowd was endless. Everytime I felt like free air, and only free air, was in front of me, there were more girls scrutinizing me down, and more boys scowling with the sight of my face. By this time, both of my hands were on that backpack strap now, overlapping each other. I needed something to calm me; to tell me it'd be a bad idea to blow up. Because if I wasn't the one doing the exploding, I'm pretty sure my head will soon enough.

So, I started running. Yes, running. The kind of running that's unfeminine, un-ladylike, with your hair flying behind you unattractively. I may be a billionaire's daughter, but that doesn't mean that's the only thing I am. I act rash. I don't think. I do whatever I want if I'm on the verge of freaking going insane.

I ignored the nasty stares, from ahead and back.

_'What the hell?'_

_'Why is she running?'_

My legs didn't stop, and for once, I'm thankful that my class is at the other side of the campus. I kept going, going. Like a vehicle going 170 miles over the limit because Arnold Schwarzenegger is trailing my ass with bombs about the size of his gorilla fists.

* * *

><p>Somehow…I made it.<p>

Another day at Lore'Ale.

Well, half. It's lunch right now.

I was in the smallest library I could find. Luckily, there was only about three other kids with me, all bookworms.

_'..looked at the file cabinet with my name.'_

_' "No!" she hissed. "I'm not going to let you!" '_

_'-It's not necessary. My nightmares are usually about losing you. I'm okay once I realize you're here," Peeta says. Awehh!'_

I was seated on a table off to the corner, though not far enough from everyone else. My left cheek remained glued onto the surface, while my fingers drummed underneath it. I scattered the bookshelf my eyes were forced to look at for an attention-grabbing title.

Gizmos & Gadgets. Visualizing Chemistry. Charles Darwin: The Creation.

I let my eyelids droop; nevermind. It's the science section.

"Can you stop doing that? It's annoying."

I stopped my drumming and tucked them between the sides of my kneecaps. I rolled to my chin.

Another book was yet beholded to me. Though behind this one, I knew a familiar face was hiding.

"Then can you talk me?" I asked.

Hotaru tilted her book to the side, and I saw a pair of deep lavender colors peeking at me with an exasperated regard. She sighed as she placed her novel to where it was, veiling herself from me again.

_'Seriously, every time, must she bother me to no end?'_

A quiet, whining hiss escaped my mouth. "Well, I kinda have to. All you do is read books."

_'And all you do is read my mind. Stop doing it.'_

I placed my hands on the table and used them to help me push my spine to the back of the chair. "I have no choice," I whispered.

She flipped a page.

_'…Youth of the fountain. If only he could meet me there-'_

"Hotaruuu."

Seconds passed, and she flipped to another. _' "-you? Do you see me doing anything wrong?" '_

"Let's go get ice-cream."

I silently watched her change pages in a speed only intelligent readers can gain. Her gaze moved quickly from line to line, and word to word. Hotaru Imai. A genius. An inventor. A fifteen year old girl who happens to be my best friend. She's not needy and dainty like all the other girls here. Maybe that's why I had liked her from the beginning. Even though she carries an I'm-more-superior-than-you aura, she doesn't abuse it. She's honest, and won't go picking a fight or shop for seventeen hours if she's not having a good day. To put it rather directly, she's the same as me in so many ways, but in equality, she's also very different.

And not just from me. From everyone else.

She can nullify my abilities to an impressive extent. This much I knew the moment we shook hands for the first time. I had befriended her, truthfully, against my will in the beginning. Father had told me about another freshmen my age that goes by the name Hotaru Imai, and he wanted me to get acquainted with her. Imai is considered to be a very powerful word thanks to her dad, Akihiro Imai. He's the chairman of a successful oil-managing group chain that's positioned in many parts of the world. Father feels that it'd be good for his image if he had connections with Mr. Imai, and also benefitting for his companies. Though part of me was involved with Hotaru because of Father at first, another was simply infatuated by the fact why mind-readin doesn't work on her too well. I gave a year or so, and I was unexpectedly best friends with her willingly. For one; whenever I touch her, remnants of her past or future don't flood into me. And second; sometimes I can read her mind, sometimes I can't. It's and off and on thing with her, and I loved it. Although it gave Father an advantage too, I could cope with it because I couldn't ask for anyone better.

Except for the tiny details, she makes me feel like a normal girl; someone I've wanted to be for so long.

But the fact that she's partly immune to my power scares me a little bit. Just a little. She reminds me of Mom, and unfortunately, Father. I occasionally imagine when she and I are older; happy, free, and lovingly married to the men of our dreams. But all that comes to my head is her future being cursed. I shake every time I think of Hotaru ending up like them. Mom, Father. Either dead, or dead but living.

But this is Hotaru. The Hotaru I'm talking about. I'm pretty sure she's been trained to dodge the fastest bullets, and gambling was no problem; she hated it with the utmost abomination.

It wasn't long before she finished a chapter. She marked the spot where she was at with a corner folded and closed it with a gentle slam.

She met my stare. '_So? What do you wan to talk about?'_ She leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest, imitating her usual dominant manner.

"Why don't you just talk?"

_'Too much effort.'_

I scowled at her. Though it had no effect, as I expected. "My head hurts."

_'That's why you're in here with me.'_

"No. I mean, I just had history. You know, with Derek, Anthony, Kaylee, Jackie, and Peter."

Her face had a fixed expression on it. Stoic. '_What happened last night?'_

I was momentarily surprised by her sudden subject change, but since it was also one of the topics I wanted to talk to her about, I answered, "The same. A guy checked me out. Says his dad is from Francis Enterprises."

Hotaru pushed her chair back and majestically glided to the librarian to check her book out. Just her casual walk made her seem powerful enough to buy an entire country. _'It's a stupid company. I'm hoping you rejected him?'_

"Flat out, but it was just one-sided. I had to act polite, 'cause you now of who." I stood up and followed her, waiting off the the side so I won't block anyone else in line. "He kissed my knuckles, too. But I didn't get the chance to wash my hands, since Father was moving fast."

After she was done checking out, she started making her way to the exit. But before she can go any further outside, I grabbed hold of her elbow, and shook my head. I begged her with my pleading eyes to not take another measly step, for I was certain that 29 feet away, a hord of males was positioned just on the other side of the door. We fought mentally, her eyes sending dagger to mine, obviously signaling for me to let go. But, even so, her considerate side finally took over, and she led me back to the table where we sat.

She laid her book on top once more, as she sat in a proper elegance; feet touching the floor and hands folded onto lap. "Maybe you should stop going with your dad," she verbalized, her voice like fine thread formed from silk.

"I thought you were too lazy too talk?"

She nodded her head to the left, beckoning my gaze to a braided girl in glasses who was half hiding behind her book, and half clearly staring at us.

_'That's Sakura Mikan, isn't it? Who is she talking to..?'_

When we clashed encountered, she immediately blocked herself with the front of her book and turned back around.

"She's been looking for quite some while now. And I doubt she's a fan. She's probably wondering why you've been talking to yourself for the past ten minutes."

I rolled my eyes and circled to Hotaru again. "Can't help if the other one doesn't speak." I recalled to her comment about Father. "And I can't. You should know best why."

She sat her face on the end of her palm, ruining her perfect posture. "How long?"

"How long what?"

"How long has he been taking you to casinos?"

I let my eyes glide to the ceiling while my brain racked for the right answer, also wondering why she's asking such a question. Hotaru is nice. She's not vain, and she's the last person in my life that I'd expect to betray me. But, for one thing, I'm not her personal interest. Although she cares deeply, she also couldn't care any less. I've known her ever since I enrolled here in Lore'Ale, and I know that she has weird ways of showing her sincere concern. Guessing from right now, displaying them flat out was not one of them. "Uh…about two-three years I guess?"

Not a single facial structure in her moved, but I did catch a glimpse of the tiniest gleam in stare. "That's amazing."

"What is?"

"But then it's also sick."

A confounded expression broke out of my face. "Wait, what are you talking about?"

"Your father," she stated with an outward breath. "He became one of the world's leading billionaire in less than three years-"

"Yeah, and?"

"You weren't supposed to talk." There was boredom in her voice, but weaved into it were the diminutive strings of pensiveness.

"Oh, sor-"

"But despite that, I have the lowest ounce of respect for him. The certainty that he uses his under-age daughter to make all the money he has now is disgusting. As his child, you shouldn't let him do that."

I frowned. "Wait, wait. Since when did we get on 'this' topic?"

She pointed to the skin under her lower lashes. "You have bags. Again. If I have to look at your face everyday, at least make it more pleasurable for me."

I instinctively covered my so-called bags with flustered fingers. I wasn't sure if I actually had them or Hotaru was just messing with me, but it's not a lie that I didn't get the good eight hours of sleep necessary last night. Plus, it did feel like my face was sagging in some parts. "I-I went to bed at two yesterday. Don't expect me to be flawless with that kind of sleep."

"Exactly. It's bad for you, and so it'd be twice as bad for me. "

I shrugged my shoulders, my hands still right below my eyes. "So what are you saying?"

"You should stop. Even I can see that it's going to break you soon enough."

"Ah." I passed a smile filled of conniving. "He's only been taking me for two years. I'm not breaking any time now."

She sighed. "Two years is already long. Don't get it any further than that. Look, I don't meddle in your business. I don't care." She made indolence obvious in the tone of her voice, as well as her mien. "But if you're having a hard time, then it affects me as well. This-" She made a gesture touring from my forehead to the bottom of my chin. "-is ugly. You go to casinos, come home late at night, don't get any sleep, and this-" Gestures. "-gets uglier. I have to see it frequently, five days a week. I'm telling you to stop, for my sake."

"Hotaru-"

"And your father's, too."

"No matter ho-huh?" I shut up my mouth at the sound of the name only she knows could send actual frogs down my throat. We rarely mentioned Father in any of our conversations. Actually, never. It was too much of a heavy topic for us to take on, so I always made sure we would never trample on over it. She's quite aware of that.

I practically had my arms and chest way past the half of the table. I leaned in closer to hear so that anyone around us wouldn't be able to hear a single syllable. "What are you doing?"

"Warning you."

"About what?" I asked. Not a second too soon, I rebounded back into my seat with arms crossed. We couldn't do this now; I didn't want to do this now. "You know what? Just drop it. I hate talking about this."

"Doesn't mean you can avoid it forever." Behind the void mask of hers, I felt a wave of concern flowing from her, which is unusual because, like I said, she's not the type to care. Nor will she ever be.

Then it clicked. "Hotaru, did something happen?" I'm amazed I only realized this now. Something-something big enough to cause her to act like this- must've occurred. Hotaru wouldn't just lecture me because I skipped a few slumbering sheep.

"Yeah. It's huge."

Oh, how I loved how she never beats around the bush. "What? What happened?"

She didn't take a split second to hesitate. "Has your dad ever told you about moving?"

"Father," I corrected. "And no? Why?" I moved my chair to the edge of the table, where she sat at one corner and I in the other. I tried to close the free space between by inching my head to hers little by little.

"Your father talked to-" _Your father talked to mine about a week ago. When my dad came home, he asked me if I knew you were moving. Apparently, Mr. Sakura is planning to move to New York soon. Soon as in five days. I made sure with Dad's connections that it's true, and it is. I knew that you didn't have a single clue about it. I was going to tell you about it today. _"-mine about a week ago. Whe-""

Everything in my brain halted. "NEW-!" Hotaru proceeded to annunciate the next word, but she closed her mouth at my sudden scream. ".._York?"_ I half exclaimed, half whispered the last part. Thankfully, I have a good conscience of where we're at at the moment.

"Did you just read my mind?"

"New york? _What? _Across the _friggin' _ country?"

"Guess you did." She sighed. "Yeah, New York."

Every atom inside and out of my body had the intuition to burst out shrieking. Forget every single secret I've held in till now, and just go balistic. "What? Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"Calm down."

"Like, _seriously? _It's New York! Not some place twenty minutes away!"

"Mikan, idiot, ju-"

"Hotaru! New York!"

She slammed a palm onto the table, creating a sound only the two of us silenced at. "Stop." She looked at me. Her rural eyes poured out an unusually bland emotion, as if they tried to pass it on to me. "Stop and calm down. Listen."

It took me a while to start breathing normally again, but after a couple of good concentration, I managed to slow my heart beat down that only now I've noticed was thumping in and out of my chest. I tried to suck in the cool and collected aura Hotaru beamed. Though I still wasn't completely comfortable, I achieved speaking in a natural manner. "Hotaru. Please. Start from where I can understand you."

She rolled her eyes, making it obvious that that was where she was going to begin anyways after I was finished with my anxiety attack. "Mr. Sakura is moving to New York. According to Dad, he has already bought a house there. He's intending to move out on Saturday, and by Tuesday, be settled in his new home. I'm guessing, almost positive, that he's taking you with him."

"Almost?"

"I can't be sure of everything until it actually happens. Even if an idiot can tell, too. But I am convinced that he can't do anything without you. My sources tell me that the reason he's going to New York is to deal. Like underground dealing."

"What's that?"

"It's a bad thing," she assured. I would've told her I can comprehend that, but she cut me off with, "It's not drug dealing. Something more worse than that. I'm assuming your father thinks he can get more money the dirtier way than he's using now. I know of a couple dealings in New York. One night can get you more than twice of what he usually makes in a casino. That's where you come in. Dealing is sneaky. It's tricky, and if you don't know your way around dealers, then your father can go bankrupt in the snap of my fingers. He's probably going to take you with the sole intention of using your power again. But this time, it's in a more dangerous area."

"…So…" Everything's jumbled up. I can't make anything clear in my head. A second ago, we were in here just to escape the school itself and it's suffocating campus. Now, a mere second later, we're talking about something that may change my life forever drastically. I don't get what's happening. I don't get what's happening, and I don't like it.

"Father…is moving?"

"To New York," Hotaru finished.

"He's taking me with him." She nodded. "So that he can have me read those dealer's minds and make sure they don't lie."

"In a way."

"You don't know for how long."

"No, but you are scheduled to leave by Saturday."

I buried my forehead deep into a hand raised by a propped elbow, rubbing it slightly so I could get the sweat off. "Saturday…" Today is Thursday. I'm basically taking my whole life across the country in three days. "Oh my God…What am I going to do?"

I don't hate Father. I don't think I ever will. I could handle it when he began taking me to casinos and making me dress up like an adult just to earn money he doesn't deserve. I kept it in whenever he slapped me square in the cheek for the tiniest mistakes. I didn't mind it when I heard his thoughts for a total of nineteen days, rather than hearing his own voice. I even let the fact that he treats me more like a slave slide. But this; this is different. He had already moved me from my beloved Michigan, and just when my heart settled in here, he's forcing the big move on me again. It's not enough for me to despise him. But he didn't have to hide it from me. He just didn't. This one action caused my love for him to drop to be leveled with my hatred.

Hotaru grabbed a lock of my hair that was scaling the side of my face and placed it behind my ear. I turned my gaze in her direction, my head still slumped onto my hand. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know," I murmured with the small portion of me that's still in tact. The rest was everywhere else. Michigan. Nevada. New York. Mom's arms. That night. Father's house. Father's mansion. Father's villa.

"What are you going to do?"

I groaned. "I told you, I don't kn-"

"Get away from there."

I perked my head up. "What?"

"Run away."

My eyes scattered for the humor that was supposed to be spread out on her face. But I could find no traces of it whatsoever; just that same lack of expression she always had. Nervously, I laughed. Quietly, and ever so wavering. I laughed and continued to as if it was the only thing I can do for the next ten years. When she had no affect at all and seemed like she had nothing to hide, I stopped abruptly. "You're not serious."

"I am."

"Hey. This isn't a one-shot thing. My father is not a normal parent. Don't even joke about that."

"I'm not. I've been dead serious about everything I've ever since your move came up."

"Well, obviously, you're crazy."

"Don't do this just for yourself. I told you before; do it for your father, too."

My lips curved into a sarcastic smile, when it was really meaning to frown into the biggest scowl I'll ever make. "Like I can do anything for him. Like I _want _to do anything for him."

"You can. And I know you want too, deep inside that puny peanut brain of yours." She glanced at the clock nailed on the south wall of the library, just a little above and passed my shoulders. _'Damn. Two minutes.' _ She turned back to me. "Do you think he'll go to New York by himself? He'd be like fresh meat thrown into a cage filled with hungry lions. He'd knows he'd be useless without you."

"So?"

She clicked her tongue impatiently. "Mikan, you love your father, correct?"

I took a minute to think this one through. After what I found out, I'm not so sure anymore. But the way she stared me down seemed like she was expecting a _'yes'_, and fast. "…Possibly."

"Whatever it is, you don't want him to go. You don't know what'll happen in New York. And neither will the whole world. People are going to follow him; find out why he and his daughter moved so far away in such a short time. And when they're around, some of them are bound to catch him red-handed dealing. It's your responsibility to do everything you can to stop him from doing that to himself. Don't let him break his life anymore. Because once the truth gets out, there's no turning back. You'll lose him permanently."

I thought about what he's done in the past, and how he never got close to exposing himself. "But-"

"Don't argue. We don't have time for that. Just do everything you can you prevent him. Even if it means leaving, do it."

"Hold on, hold on, Hotaru," I ceased her with my hands up. "You _actually _want me to run away? There's so many things wrong with that sentence. And first off, I still haven't made sure Father is going to New York. Your sources might be wrong for all we know."

She raised an eyebrow in challenge and smirked an I-can't-believe-you-just-said-that smile. But I quickly assured her, "Okay, so he is going. And he's taking me with him. But you know I can't run away. Even if I try, it'd be pointless."

"What you're being right now is not sensible. It's not being thoughtful about your father, either. In fact, it's the complete opposite of that. Mikan, don't you get it? If you go, then he'll stay here. In California with all his bodyguards, his maids, his service, and anything else protecting him. In New York, he won't have any of that, since he's doing dirty business."

"Hotaru, it sounds like you're worried for him."

"I don't care about him," she retorted, and, despite the circumstances right now, something inside me went bubbly because she didn't deny that she doesn't care about me when she usually does in this kind of situation. "I know that if I let you go to New York with that madman, something will happen, and the next time I'll see you, you'll probably be a shit load of tears I'll have to comfort, or you'll be in a burial coffin, in which I have to look at. I don't want to deal with all that."

The next sound I heard was not my voice as I was expecting, but rather the ring of the school bell that signaled the end of lunch.

'_Page forty-two, page forty-two…'_

_'Okay, what is it; E period?'_

Hotaru calmly stood up, with her book neatly tucked to her side. Her stare striked down at me, still as demanding and persuasive. My surroundings consisted of students rushing, books being slammed shut, the doors opening and closing, and the annoying tone of beeping phones. But only between the two of us, there was this funny silence hovering about. My eyes locked with hers.

She broke the hold and began walking out, not waiting for me because she and I both knew I wasn't ready to move yet, or anytime soon. Just before exiting my thirty-feet bubble, the familiar knock of her though entered me.

_'Think about it.'_

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><p>Ooh, geez. What an utter disappointment. I know its been a while and I know I'm supposed to write up a good chapter because of that, but hey, I'm human and only a child. Sorry if my writing isn't always too perfect. But, for you guys who enjoyed it, thanks a bunch for readin'!(:<p>

Stay smexy!


	4. I'm Defined

Okay, so this is an extremely short chapter compared to my other ones. That's because it was originally written to be part of Chapter three, but it got too long. I don't know about you guys, but it pisses me off SOOOO much when a chapter is way to big. It's like, when is it gonna end, dude? Haha, okay so here ya go(:

Oh, and if you'd like, think of this as an extension of chapter two. Enjoy!(:

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><p><span>Chapter Four: I'm Defined<span>

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

I have two kinds of clocks in my room. One is a digital, where the numbers are shown in big, pre-portioned blood red colors that stand out in the darkness of midnight. Then there's the old fashioned kind. You know; a circle with a big and small hand exploring all the 12 hours of the day. I like that clock better, but only because I know what to expect. Unlike the digital, it actually shows when a minute is almost up. When an hour is ending. When your day is restarting over again. It's one of the few items in the world that reminds you no one has forever to live. Or endure.

I was snuggled inside my room, buried by about five layers of blankets on top of me, covering from the tip-top of my head to the last inches on my toes. It wasn't cold at all. I just wanted to hide myself away from the rest of humanity; or in this case, whatever is lurking in my room. Tick. Tock. That's about the 11,117 time the manual clock made that sound. It must be one in the morning already.

I've been wide awake ever since I crawled in bed at ten o'clock sharp. It's one of those rare nights that Father goes out without me. It's a good thing for two reasons; he's not gambling, and I could finally get a good, full sleep. But I haven't even felt an eyelid drop, after three silent hours later.

What if Father rely does intend to move? What will I do then?

Running away isn't wholly pushed out of my possibilities, but it is definitely lounging in the bottom region. I haven't thought of any other choices, though, because my mind was so focused on what'll happen anyways if I end up going with Father 2,413 miles away.

When we moved from Michigan to Nevada, I was old enough to be affected by it. If I was five instead of twelve, then I wouldn't have had anything to lose. But I wasn't five. My age back then had a lot to offer; I had to leave my friends. Though we didn't socialize so much for the last two years, they were still my childhood. They carried memories within them that I wish I could still look back at and say "Oh, I remember that!" right in their faces. I can't do that while I'm in a different state. I had to leave my favorite mall. Malls here in Nevada aren't worth a second of my day. I had to leave my beloved home, my neighborhood park, the school in which I basically grew up in. Most importantly, I had to leave Mom behind.

To this day, I haven't heard any news about her cupcake shop. Whether it's doing well, or someone bought it and took over, or if it's utterly demolished; I haven't a single idea how it's managing. I've asked Father if we can go back and visit often, but he stares down at me shakes his head. A flat no. Sometimes, he would wear a sad expression, as if he was reminiscing in his glory in the old days, but it would always disappear before I can clarify it.

Her burial ground is in Michigan, thankfully. That was the final act of kindness Father had to offer. He knew Mom hated cities the most. Especially those that are filled with lights, smog, cars, and the strong odor of desperation coming from every single person. She, you see, was born in California. She waited, and waited, and waited until she was old enough to move out of her parent's home. Then she waited, waited, and waited some more to be even older to move to another state. Some place where suits and cigarettes didn't exist. That's how she ended up in the countryside of Michigan. That's how she met Father, and that's how I came to be.

That's also sort of how I can keep living with Father. Whenever I feel like giving up on him, I remind myself of what he did for Mom and how I respected him because I'm not so sure I can willingly be apart from her. He was well aware that she could've came to Las Vegas with us. But if she did, she would spend eternity in a place she tried so hard to get away from. He couldn't do that to her. He couldn't, because he loves her. As she loves him. And truth is, Hotaru was right; I love them. Both of them.

I must've fallen asleep-thank God-because the next thing that came into my view wasn't the empty darkness in my room, but rather a a dark, somewhat menacing figure, looming over me on one side of my bed. I didn't recoil back, or hide again under my sheets. Something about this silhouette felt disgustingly natural.

_'..kanwa...keup...'_

The distinct waft of liquor and smoke lingered around. "Father?" I sat up against my bedframe, pushing my blankets off my legs and the rest of my body. Now, it was cold.

I could barely see his face twist disappointingly. He suddenly dropped to his knees, cradling his head in his two, enormous hands. Just wedged in between the song of the clock, was a faint sob that came every second.

Tick. Sob. Tock. Sob.

"Father?" I said yet again. At this point, I had swung myself off of the mattress and descended next to him on the carpeted floor, not daring to touch him yet because I haven't grasped what was happening. Each time I had the courage to scoot closer and closer, his cries were more obvious. I glanced over my shoulder to where Mom's picture and the digital clock were perched on top of my bedside table. The clock, in those big, portioned blood red colors that stood out in the darkness, read 3:17 A.M. Has Father been out drinking?

I daringly laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Father, what's wrong?"

Sob. "Mikan, Pl-" Sob. "-ease. Don't call me th-" Sob. "at. Don't call me that."

I tilted my angle to see if I could meet his eyes, but they were still veiled by his shivering fingers. "What do mean?"

He shook his head slowly. "Don't call me that."

I couldn't read his thoughts. If he's drunk, confused, and mentally unstable at the same time, it's extremely hard contemplating his mind from himself. Right now, he's a big bundle of three years that was long overdue for a breakdown. "Father, I don't get what you're saying."

And because I can't predict him, I couldn't predict his actions either. Faster than I would expect it, an impeding force was blown into my right cheek, the cheek where Father hits the most, and hits the hardest. My hair skidded the air as my vision went blurry and was thrown off to the side. I held my ground. Though my nose skimmed the wooden rim of the of my bed, my stance was not broken and I didn't move a single centimeter out of place. It took more than every once of self-control I had to not bring my hand up to my throbbing face, no matter how much it hurt inside and out. I clenched my fists onto the ground to prevent myself, probably ripping out a few carpet strings out in the process. I didn't return my head to it's original place; if I turn back, I might meet his eyes. That's the one thing I'm never going to do after he hits me.

Some part of me knew it would happen. Father would never pass up the chain to slap me whenever he's drunk. After he's done with a few rounds of treating me like I'm some kind of boxing exercise, he would leave the room and send some people to treat my injuries. He was careful to pick those that were too afraid to rat out on him.

But instead of taking the usual course and getting up to leave me in my comforting darkness by myself, he surprisingly stretched his arms above my head and laid them down upon my back. He pulled me slightly into his chest with my earpositioned flat right on top of his heart, which only I knew existed underneath all those fancy attire he had on. It was beating at a fast, flustered speed.

"Mikan, I'm sorry," he whispered somewhere above me. I felt his chin resting itself on the crown of my head. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hit you. Sorry."

His grip tightened, and by this I realized my arms are still dangling by my sides. I noticed he left a free space around them, in case I had the urge to hug him back. But I couldn't even feel a vein; when I attempted to lift them, they refused, rebelled, and remained unmoving where they stand.

Why, in any sort of hell, is he hugging me?

"But…" he began. "I told you not to call me that."

I couldn't find my voice. Either it was because my jaw ached to a point where I can't talk, or I was surprised by the simple action of what normal parent would do to their child; of what Father just did to me. I stayed silent.

"Okay? Call me 'Dad', like in the old days." He pulled himself away slightly to get a glimpse of my face. His gaze fluttered over my cheek, which I'm guessing had a bronzing bruise covering it. He seemed to hold his breathe as he examined it; his stare fixed, but wavering. Then, he merged the two of us back together, though closer this time.

_Dad_. What a word. To others, it reminds them of someone who drive guys away from their daughters; someone to play catch with; someone overruled by the alpha female in the house; someone a child can trust their whole life. But to me, a 'Dad' is just someone I miss. Someone I haven't' seen for three, incredibly hideous years.

I managed to find my voice born from hearing 'Dad' come out of the mouth that replaced him. "O-Okay."

His hold pressured more. And by now it hurt. Bad. As if I would snap if he held on any tighter. I could tell there were going to be fresh bruises on my upper arms where his fingers crushed the most.

"Fa-Dad?"

He sighed, sounding relieved and free. "Thank God. I have you back." The smell of alcohol invaded me again. "I'm sorry. I've been drinking."

He's an alcoholic. He drinks at casinos. He drinks at clubs. Obviously, he drinks at bars, and he drinks at home often. Father is one of those people that you rarely see without a beer bottle intertwined in their fingers. If I imagine me, a 5''4' fifteen year old trying to support her drunk, 6''9', bulky Father by herself, all I could see is disaster waiting for both him and me. I was the one who's always watching in the sidelines when he's not sober; the people who took care of him were bodyguards about twice his size. Normally, it takes two to get him home, one to make him cooperate with dressing out of his suits, and nearly half a dozen to get him back to his senses. Meaning, they have to force Father to drink sedatives or medicine of some sort.

I can't do any of those things. Among the many excuses I have lie even more reasons why I can't be alone with Father in New York. I know I'm not enough. I know I'm not capable. Above all, I know I don't want to do it all by myself.

_Run away. Get away from there. Run away. Get away from there. Run away. Get away from there._

Oh Hotaru. Please, not now.

Three knocks came at my door. As Father and I turned our heads in the direction of it, it gently swung open and revealed three men in black suits and sunglasses. They stood rigidly at the doorway with their hands folded in front of them. One man towards to the side bent his arm to the wall adjacent to him and flipped a light switch. Abruptly, the chandelier above me shone brightly the next second. It was only then that I could fully make out Father's blood-shot eyes and messy hair which was usually slicked back. The other man, who stood in the center, reached up to his ear and pressed something invisible to me due to my distance and angle.

"Roger. We found Mr. Sakura. Uninjured. He's in the room of Mikan Sakura. Fifth floor, twenty-second room," he murmured. '_Finally.'_

_'Goddamit. Should've known he was here; we just spent two meaningless hours looking on the third floor.'_

They began marching to us, keeping their perfect formation if a triangle. Father hadn't freaked out when they barged in, nor when they came closer and closer. He eyed them in a confused, very drunk-like manner; with one eyes drooping lazily.

"What?" His voice was composed as ever, despite his appearance. It was the same tone I had heard in the darkness. "What do you want, bastards?"

"Excuse us, sir."

All three of them circled around him and used both of their upper limbs to pull him up gently on his feet. He thrashed about, flinging his arms everywhere and at everyone. "What? What do you want? Bastards!" he repeated. I edged myself farther from him at a distance where I was sure none of his legs would accidentally hit me square in the stomach or neck. Once Father spotted me gaining a gap between us, he fell silent and looked at me like I had done the impossible. But then frantically, he started to wring his body even more. "Let me go! Look, you made her scared now! Apologize! Just leave us alone, I finally got my daughter back! Go! Leave!"

I watched quietly as he was being escorted out of my room. He screamed and hollered, but the men didn't loosen their grips in him one bit. When they were halfway through my doorway, one turned back around to me.

"Excuse us for the interruption so late at night. We're sorry we didn't keep an eye on him properly. Good night, Ms. Sakura."

_'Poor child. He must've scared her to death.'_

Once he closed the door behind him, Father's strained voice was muffled as it grew distant and more inaudible. Even in the room, I could hear him with each step he took downstairs. Only when it had gone completely mute, I felt freely safe to stand on my two feet. So I did, and, with a reluctant push, made the little, trudging ways to my bathroom absentmindedly.

I switched the lights on and held my face close to the mirror. Close enough so that I would be able to examine the mark Father gave me. I traced my fingers along the yellow-hued bruise, instantly knowing it would come to be a shining purple in a matter of hours. It covered my whole cheek bone, and skimmed halfway down the rest of my right-side. I was careful not to pressurize it so much, because just with a light touch, it felt like all hell broke loose inside my face.

Based on my past experiences, this would be considered as a six on a scale from one to ten. The way I rate my bruises is like this; the first five are minor. They disappear within a range of two days. Six, seven, and eight are more of like the attention-grabbers. They look like they could scar you for life (though I know a bruise can't scar), but in truth it vanishes cleanly and without a trace of it left. Then there's nine and ten. Those are the hopeless cases. There's no use in worrying about them, because, as I said, it won't do you any good. Those are the ones that usually leave you with a fractured nose, or bleeding some place on your face. The only thing that'll help me with them is a trip to a doctor.

Just once had Father given me a ten before. Just once. It was last year, when he had just came home from a terrible night at the bar. Apparently, someone had the courage to start a fight with him, and Father, unfortunately, had been drunk to the point where he was ready to kill someone if they had provoked him. For thirty minutes, they rounded each other, tried to punch, kick, and gnaw each other's head off. Of course, it wasn't long before Father's security found out about what he'd gotten himself into. They dragged him away against his will, and brought him home without letting him finish his fight. He somehow escaped the guards and came barging into my room where I was sound asleep, demanding for a "re-do". He didn't give me much time to realize what he was doing before he took me by the collar and threw me off my bed and into the hard floor. He lunged in top of me, swinging his fists that came dangerously close to my mouth. I tried to push him off, but he wouldn't budge; he laughed and laughed as he attempted to beat me to a pulp due to the fact that he thought I was the man from the bar. His men soon came in and pulled him away once more, but not before he got a good shot straight to my eye.

I had to go to the hospital the next day. Jim, and all the other help in the house were afraid Father hit me too hard, and I would receive some kind of brain damage. Though it did look disgusting and utterly repulsive, my eye was fine and I didn't get any long term casualties. The bruise, on the other hand, stayed for a month or so.

I turned the faucet on. I didn't come in contact with the running water; I had no intention to do so. But the sound of thousands of continuous drops made me feel at ease. It helped me put my life in perspective. Putting and straightening my arms onto the counter, I hung my head between my raised shoulders.

The move…can I really do it? Can I…should I really move to New York? I mean, it would be like this every night, possibly. I would be alone with Father. There would be no strong men like those from before to keep him in place. If he ever gets high, there's no one to help if he decides to punch me again. Thus, there'd also be no one to aid my probably bleeding nose.

It'd be just me him, dealing with our own problems by ourselves.

I shuddered at the thought. Father is composed, and never loses his poker face if he's serious. But, again, he's an alcoholic. Beer drives him crazy, and if he's had more than the recommended amount, he can become someone you haven't met. Even someone you don't want to meet. And I have no doubt that 50% of his time in New York will be getting high in favor of the dealers he's going to work with. I am far from being capable to handle him drunk.

_Run away. Get away from there._

I couldn't help but recall what Hotaru said. By this point I didn't care if it was absurd, it was now an option. A crazy, risky option, but an option. The only thing blocking me is the main reason itself.

Although he uses me as a tool, and when he's drunk, showers me with fake love, but I am Father's daughter. Despite everything else, he wouldn't be able to bare his own blood child go missing from his life for who knows how long.

…Right?

More knocks were heard from outside. These were louder, impeding, and inpatient. Leaving the tap water, I glanced from the bathroom to see who was at the door, but unlike last time, they didn't come straight in.

Then, with a start, the hinges flew open, and Father came scrambling in the second after, making me stop in my tracks. He looked around the room desperately, his chest heaving in deep breathes and exhaling smaller ones. His clothes were scraggier than before; his tie completely twisted around his neck and his torso buttoned in the wrong places.

He glanced at the ceiling, the floor, every cubic inch he could identify. And when his hysteric eyes finally landed on mine, he smiled a crooked smile and immediately came running to me clumsily.

I took a step back. I had to urge to close the bathroom door on him, but seeing his hands were not cut, I figured he didn't have a weapon on him.

Just when I thought our impact together would be great and painful, he abruptly stopped when he came two feet in front of me.

_'…ilo….kanil…pleasebe…'_

He's still drunk.

"Mikan." I'm surprised how normal and powerful his voice still was. If I closed my eyes and just listened to him talk, I swear I'd think he's sober right now. "Mikan."

He took three steps towards me, and I took equal steps farther. "Father? Why are you here?"

He didn't hit me. He didn't even seem to mind I had gone back to what I previously called him. He just smiled. "I'm sorry I let them interrupt us."

Suddenly, with one giant leap, he grabbed hold of whatever part he could and wrapped his arms around me. "You wanna know something?" His face was nuzzled awkwardly in my hair. The putrid stench of alcohol came rushing back, mixed in with the faint aroma of Father's cologne that I only smelled until now.

I held the sides of my silk pajamas, aware that it would leave permanent wrinkles later. "W-What is it?"

"You wanna know something Mikan?" He chuckled lightly. "I love you."

_Oh, those three words. _

Scenes swiftly came rushing into my head the next second as I kept a critical breath in while it played through each one.

Father and I in New York. Father and I arguing. Father and I running away. Father hits me and I cry. Father and I argue some more. Father and I wanting to die.

The sound of the running bathroom sink had never been so audible to me before; it's as if it was the only thing flowing in time, and everything else was stuck.

My first assumption was that I am now magically able to interpret Father's future, for I have never done so in the past. But, my first _instinc_t dragged, and dragged, and dragged, and dragged me to thinking that my power had nothing to do with this. It dragged, and dragged, and dragged until I resolved that it had absolutely nothing to do with this. At all. How? I'm a mind-reader; I should be able to perceive my own thoughts easily.

With that unforeseen realization, I had finally, _finally_, come to a conclusion about what I'm to do.

"I really love you, Mikan."

Maybe I decided too fast. Maybe I'm wrong.

"I'm sorry for what I've done, but I do love you. So much."

Maybe it's the most life-threatening action I'll ever take.

"I love you. And Yuka."

But, I'll give it a shot. The worse I can do is fall hard on my pride. Not so bad.

I slowly brought my arms arm to his upper back. I rested my fingers on each of his shoulder blades and tilted my head higher so he can hear.

"Father? I love you too."

I knew I had to get away from here.

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><p>I am just <em>horrible at writing <em>desicion-making scenes. Especially ones that the main character finds out something important. For some reason, I can't build up the tension and let it blow up expertly. It's either I rush it up, or slow it down. They're like, my enemy weakness -,- so I'm sorry if this particular chapter wasn't up to my usual standards. I know, I'm an author with no right to have reviews. Btw, those that reviewed, thanks a bunch!(:

Stay smexy!


	5. Author's Note

Hey Guys! Sorry this isn't a new chapter. Uhm, basically I just wanted to hear if any of you people want me to continue this story. 'Cause, you know, my life's been getting busy and my friends keep asking me to go out with them, and it's been getting hard to keep up with this. I might put it on hiatus for a long time, but I'm not sure. What about it? Should I drop _Your Truth, My Lies_? Either IM me or review, or whatever, anything's fine(: But the next chapter will be up soon, regardless of what you guys want. Mostly because I've already started working on it :P Then, from that chapter, you can tell me. Thanks guys! Stay smexy!


	6. Freedom, As Joy, Is Too Good To Last

Yay! Got this in before the weekendddd(: OHHH, NATSUME COMES IN, MANNN! And after your reviews guys, I've decided to continue this story(; I realized I have so much more in store for this one. So more chapterss! And for those of you who read this chapter already, my computer had a mental breakdown on me and somehow erased this chapter o.o but I was able to post it back up again, so enjoy!

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><p><span>Chapter 5: Freedom, As Joy, Is Too Good To Last<span>

Someone tell me I'm doing the right thing.

Someone tell me I'm doing a good job so far.

Someone grab my hand and say, "You're going to be okay."

I stared at myself in the mirror. I had taken my ridiculously expensive pajamas off and I dressed in a more simple attire; plain, worn out jeans that were naturally overlapped by a gray jacket with a hem too long and sleeves covering about halfway of my fingers. I had no make-up on, which made me realize that my face looked skinnier and duller. I liked it. For once I'm awake in the middle of the night and I had not one ounce of foundation sprayed on me.

My hair was slicked back into a high ponytail. When I turned sideways, I was surprised at what I saw, but then I instantly remembered that I, no other, had done it.

Every strand of my hair was dyed black. Pure black, jet-black. Black. I had cut it, too. It was now sliding the skin around my shoulders. Then, meeting my eyes, I recalled another adjustment I made.

Instead of the gentle brown my iris was supposed to withheld, they were glowing green. I had put contacts on about an hour ago. I wanted to get used to them, but they still cause the smallest irritation whenever I blink.

In my opinion, I looked good, considering I had only two hours to work with; black hair and green eyes were a well thought-out combination. And by changing my outward features, no one would know it's me. Izumi Sakura's daughter. A billionaire's daughter. It would be easier to get around with that in mind. Besides, there's not much pictures of me posted on the internet; another factor that I am now thankful to have by me.

I sighed an anticipated breathe. My hands clasped harder onto the arm of the cargo backpack that was strapped on one side of my shoulder. Though it burdened heavily, I swore to myself to never let it go, to never let it out of my sight or have anyone come close to it. The necessities that were cradled in there were things I can't afford to lose, even if it's just a few shirts, blankets, and socks. As of this moment, every single item I had upon my back was my living.

I'm carrying my life, literally, if you would.

I looked up to the mirror again with a focused expression. My lips were pursed, and my stare was determined.

I can't mess up. Mikan Sakura, if you screw this, you won't be ending only your life, but Father's as well.

Once you're out, keep going until you can see the discriminating lights of Las Vegas no more. Don't stop and ignore whatever pain or cramp wriggle into your feet. Shed blood. Shed sweat. Shed your old self, but never shed tears. Remember that. You're not running away just to cry your heart out. No matter what comes your way, you'll be okay. Just please don't break. Because the second you do, you'll forget everything.

'_Never lose the reason of why you're doing what you've done.'_

That's right. You've lived by those words. They lighted your path, and will continue too. Don't abandon them. That's crucial.

I whipped my head around the room slowly, taking one last glance at it. The chandelier still lit brightly with its one hundred and fifty six diamonds. The manual clock still sung without a hesitant care in it's voice. The bathroom sink was now turned off, and Mother's picture was still balanced where it usually is.

I had decided to let her stay here. I took after Father's footsteps, and left her remaining remembrance on Earth where it belonged the most. And that was near him. Though I felt a big string of bravery was torn with my decision, I held it in since I figured he felt like what I do now when he chose to leave her back in Michigan.

She smiled at me from across the room. The distance between us was so short, but in reality, it can only be measured by death. She held her cupcakes in her floppy hands, cream snowing on her face in some parts. Her smile was toothy. Perfect, white, and toothy.

I grinned in return, feeling it was the last action I'll take towards her for a long time. Then, I whirled back to my reflection where I found myself standing with squared shoulders. After I gulped in the sense of intimidation that creeped on me as I thought of the possibilities of this body going out to where it has never been before, I lifted one of my stronger hands. I curled it into a balled fist with my nails digging shallowly in my skin, slung it past my ear, and threw it dead straight into my mirror. It shattered into millions of thousands of pieces with a piercing screech as I began to see less of me, little by little. None had cut my fingers. Of course; I had aimed it at a spot where I was sure nothing will injure me the slightest.

The next time I eyed myself, only the tip of my mouth was shown. I saw it curve into a small, forceful upward motion as the last piece of reflective glass flew down to the floor, splitting into two. Now, all that was left is the simple, brown backboard.

I headed for the door. As I opened it, I turned to Mom, who watching as if she was seeing me off.

_"Have fun, baby!"_

I couldn't help but let another smile graze my facial structure. Circling back to the front, I stepped out of my room with my hand still holding to the backpack strap for dear life.

"Bye, Mom. I'll be back."

I hope.

* * *

><p>They knew I'd run away someday. In fact, they've encouraged me for such a long time up 'till now.<p>

'_Why doesn't she rebel like a normal teenager?' _

_ 'She should just go. She can have a better life.' _

_ 'Mikan, please. Stand up to your father and do what's right for yourself.' _

That's what they all used to think.

Although they didn't have the audacity to actually say it out loud, they've thought the same sentence every glance that turned my direction. They knew what Father does to me, both physical and emotional, so they'd look at me like I was some strayed puppy lost in her own home. I didn't get mad. Obviously, they didn't have the hidden ambition to drive me away, but the consideration that just poured from off of them makes more the reason why I hated to leave.

I eased down the hallway, careful with every squeak I made with my rubber shoes. My heart was thumping at a fast pace, seeming as if the entire county of Las Vegas could hear. As I stared ahead, the first one of many came up.

Priscilla, as usual, was busy dusting her night away. She held a furry, feathery brush in her hands and she leaned on her toes to get the top part of the huge picture frame she was working on. She was dressed in the normal maid uniform; black dress coated with a white apron and laces at her collar. And somehow, my uneasiness stopped wavering when I heard the peaceful melody she was humming so energetically.

_'Anata no oto, dokun dokun dokun! Kikoete kuru yo, dokun dokun dokun~!'_

With another noise my shoes made, she rounded her gaze from Father's picture to me. She seemed like she was expecting a co-worker to pass along, because she jerked her head back when her eyes crashed with mine.

_'Huh? Mikan?_' She moved her attention on the lower part of my face, which I'm guessing where the bruise would've hued a disgraceful purple by now. _'Dear God. Not again.'_

Priscilla stuffed her duster in the rear pocket of her apron, and came striding towards me. She lifted her arms, gesturing a warm hug coming up, but when she spotted the strap on my shoulder and the backpack bulging out to my side, she stopped.

She looked down at me, mouth scarcely open. She stood about two feet higher; one without her heels. Her lips were glossy, and her eyes were well mascaraed and lined. Priscilla is pretty, and sometimes I wonder what she's doing here when she could easily become a model.

_'Is she…?'_

I sprouted a gleaming grin upon my face to tell her the answer. For a second, she stood motionless, as if she saw a ghost. And though my eyes were directed towards her, hers were clearly averted to the item I was holding behind me.

_'Is she..?'_

I held her hand and clasped it as sincerely as I could. "Priscilla, I'm going to miss you."

Gradually, ever so gradually, the tears began to swell up in her eyes and come plummeting down onto the floor. She sniffed a few times before finally giving me the hug she was originally going to deliver twenty seconds ago. I embraced her back.

"Oh, Mikan. Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I know it's sudden, and I'm sorry." We broke apart. "But I have to. Priscilla, please don't tell Father. He's the reason why I'm doing this anyways."

"Did he hit you too hard this time?"

"Oh, no," I replied, shaking my head. "Not like that. No violence involved here. I can't tell you now, but my leaving is sincere."

She furrowed her eyebrows in unison. "Sorry…sincere?"

"You don't have to get it." I glimpsed at the dark, luminous sky outside of the window that was placed just to the right of us. The early signs of the wakening sun began to dot the horizon, so remotely afar. "Look, Priscilla, I don't have the time. I have to get going."

She bit her lip and looked worriedly past me again. "Is everything there?"

"Yeah." I brought my backpack to the front and patted it proudly. "Everything."

She used a finger to roughly wipe away her tears. Surprisingly, her make-up wasn't ruined. Using her free hand, she caressed my ponytail, bringing it onto my shoulder. "You've even dyed your hair." She paused. "And you have contacts. You're serious."

Once more, Priscilla pulled me in for another embrace, though I knew this was going to be the last. "I don't want you to go, and yet I do. You have no idea how long I was waiting for you to do this."

"I'll miss you, too," I repeated.

"Don't talk to strangers, you hear me?"

"I know."

She sobbed twice. "Do you have money?"

"Yes."

"Do you know where you're going or how you're getting there?"

_No. _"..Yes."

"Maybe I should co-"

"Priscilla." I broke away once more and held her wrists. She was shaking. "I'll be fine. Trust me."

She was reluctant to do so, and in her eyes she seemed like she was battling with herself. But soon enough she snatched her duster out and walked back to the frame she left unfinished. She eyed me from aside her shoulder as she blindly swept over the same position over and over. "Well? Aren't you going already?"

God, I really was going to miss her. "Yeah."

I walked ten little heaps before I had aligned with her. "Bye," I murmured under my breathe, acknowledging it was audible. As I squeaked further and further away, I distinctly heard her muffled cries. But knowing Priscilla, she was happy.

I had encountered many other maids and butlers as I made my way to the front door. They all reacted equivalently; confused at first. A silent ripple of frustration overcame them as they saw my unveiled bruise. But when they laid their stare on the thing I was closely lugging, they cried. And smiled. And asked me questions only a mother would ask her child on the first day of school. Most of them were repetitive as what Priscilla interrogated me.

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Should we escort you out, Mikan?"

Even the bodyguards softened up. Though enormous, muscular, and a little-okay well, a lot, on the bulky side, they had a soft spot, especially for my well-being. And instead of doing what they're paid to do and watch over me, they parted from each doorway I came across, freely letting me through. I didn't have to say one word before each of them said, "Make sure to kick him in the balls of anyone tries to touch you. Good luck out there."

There was only about one other man I had to get past. That man's name is Jim.

* * *

><p>We were outside on the 98th step of the mansion's porch, another hundred eerily scaled downward. I succeeded so far in my plan; the first part was to get myself out of the place. Which, assuming that my "obstacles" were so eager to let me pass, wasn't such a hard phase as I thought it would be.<p>

Second was Jim. Yes, he's difficult to the point where he alone makes up a big portion of my escapade.

He sat beside me in the cool October night, his gaze fixated on his shadow that stretched and fell down the steps because of the high-powered lights behind us. I did the same, and observed my own. I couldn't help but take on a paranoid worry as my shadow didn't descend all the way to the ground that seemed so far right now. It was a big, marble staircase after all.

"You see those hefty fences?" Jim started, his finger beckoning north in the murky evening.

I squinted as I saw two miniature glowing orbs off in the distance. Showcasing from the dim light they emanated were black, steel arrow tips. They were the light posts of the main house gates. "Yeah?"

"You have to get past that to be able to go outside. There's wide-awake guards posted there."

I shrugged. "As there were twice as many stationed at every door in there," I said while I jabbed my thumb over my shoulder and to the mansion. "Yet, I got through them without a sweat."

He sighed, a grin tugging on the corners of his lips. "So they really let you pass, huh?"

"As unbelievable as it sounds, yeah."

_'I should've known.'_ "Well, just for your information, it's not that surprising. They've wanted you to run away since long ago, and when you finally do, they'll do everything to help you. "

"I know." I huddled my backpack onto my lap, my arms only meeting each other halfway since it was so over-filled. "Actually, I knew. Always had. I don't blame them; even I had no guts. They did enough already by letting me leave in peace."

"They're good people."

"Mm-hm. I'm really going to miss Priscilla. I think she cried most of all."

"What about Manny?"

"He told me to kick a guy in the balls if one touches me."

Jim laughed, and I didn't stay so quiet either. "Five times would do it."

"Five times?"

"In a row."

"Hm..." I murmured, nodding my head in understanding. As much as I loved chatting with him, I couldn't waste anymore time. It's only about one more hour until the sun rises, and therefore, one more hour until the cameras come flooding in. With them being a nuisance, I'm sure to get busted for my efforts to flee. "Hey, Jim. Are you going to stop me?"

I'm positive I charged too fast, because the next few seconds were silent. Only the mating call of a mere grasshopper ringed between the two of us.

"I don't think I can," he replied after a while. "And I'm pretty sure I don't want to."

"But…you want to know why I'm choosing to go now. Right?" I said as I read his thoughts.

He sighed. "Sometimes, I really do believe you can tell what I'm thinking." I went rigid. "But, yes. Basically. Answer my one question, and you're free to leave this old coot."

_Jim, Father is moving to New York to deal. I don't know what kind of dealing, but I know it's pretty dangerous. He's taking me with him to make sure he doesn't get cheated on. You see, I have this thing called mind-reading. The name says it all. And that's kinda why I'm leaving. Actually, it is why I'm leaving. I don't want to go. It might sound selfish of me, but I'm really doing this for his sake. If I stay here, we go to New york. Together; alone. He's not bringing bodyguards or anyone to protect us. He's foolish enough to think we can live without Drey. We can't. You should know very well that I can't tame Father on my own. I doubt the men he's working with would help, either. I'm sure, somewhere not so deep in my heart, he'll somehow screw up and you and I will be living in poverty. I don't mind, since poverty doesn't sound so bad after living in worse conditions, but wha-_

"Mikan?"

I opened my eyes, as I don't even remember closing them. My body was positioned into an up-right human ball, my face digging into the fabric of my backpack which I noticed I held more firmly than the last. The hot air I breathed came boomeranging back up my nostrils, and some burned the skin on my lips.

I straightened my spine, which I had also unconsciously arched, and let the chilly night/dawn breeze tickle my cheeks again. From the refreshed sensation, I assumed I had postured myself like that for, oddly, a long time.

I glanced at Jim, finding him already staring at me. "Uh, yeah?"

For a moment, he remained fixed. Not so much looking at me, but rather just the surface of it all. "Nothing…you hair, I mean. And your eyes."

I smiled inwardly. "I know. Hot, huh? I figured that most people won't be able to recognize me like this."

"Some might."

"Yeah, smart ones. Those are rare to find. And, about your question-" I sat on the edge of the step and swung my backpack from my from lap and onto my right shoulder. I stood up, taking the other strap to my left. "-I can't tell you everything. I trust you, but that doesn't mean you know what I know."

Jim is great at keeping to himself, especially in his old age. But in contrast, he's nosy when it comes to my business. He thinks he's my guardian since he feels that a child like me should have at least someone over thirty to rely on. I've never told him, for I didn't have the heart to, that I don't need it. I don't need him. I love him, and care for him, but he'd be so much better off not familiarizing himself with the Sakura affairs.

I expected him to urge me on further. To press the secretive side of me away. But instead of his usual, information-demanding self, he held his interrogations back. "If not everything, then at the minimum, something. Anything?"

Skimming my gaze down the porch steps that lead below, I thought about how long it would take to reach the concreted ground. Depending on that outcome was how much of my story I can summarize to him.

"Fine." It wouldn't take that long. Twenty seconds. Tops. "I'm doing this for Father. That's all." But, the thing is, twenty seconds is crucial. Later on, when I'd have settled in a new home-or bench, tree, box; whatever I'm going to live in after today-I might then think about giving him a call and telling him the whole situation.

He sighed amusedly. "That's it?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

I slumped. "Jim, you're getting snoopy again."

"Again? What?"

"Jim," I said, a little laughter stringed in.

He didn't laugh, which made me presumed that he was being serious all along. I stopped giggling.

"Um, I have t-"

"To go? I know." He pillared on his two feet, dusting the bottom of his pants. "But, let me worry. It's for the last time." I waited quietly, silently wishing he would hurry, as he pondered for the right maternal questions to ask.

_'Fifty more minutes…Will she make it?'_

Based upon his thoughts, he asked, "Where are you going?"

"Someplace where nobody knows me. In short, someplace where the population is close to zero." I had this so many times. I saw it coming, especially from him.

"So why did you change your appearance?"

I thought about it, puckering my lips to the air. "I don't know. Extra precautions?"

"How will you get there?"

"By foot. Well, feet."

He seemed to send me a flustered look, but took it back after his stare fell under and met my sturdy built shoes. "Money?"

Woah, de'javu. "Priscilla already gave me this examination. You can even ask her. But seriously, Jim, I have to go."

He heaved a breathe, and walked two quick steps to me. "You know, you're not letting me do a good job as you protector."

As much as I hated thinking of him like that, I absolutely _despised _it when the actual word came out of his mouth. "You are not my protector, Jim. You're my friend. You think of that as a job?"

"I do get paid after all." A small smile formed on the surface of his lips. And for the first time since talking to him this night, I felt like he accepted the truth of my decision. "You're going to be okay, kiddo?"

"Yes, old man. If anything, I'll give you a call."

"What's m-"

"661-896-0834."

His grin grew slighter bigger. And brighter. "You have forty-seven minutes."

As precise as usual. "I planned it so I can have an hour, but _someone_ kept me in," I said, emphasizing 'someone'.

He placed a foot forward, and his arms had immediately met around my shoulders. In return, I laid mine on as much of his back as I can.

I wished, hoped, dreamed, and yearned that Jim could get paid for his hugs. If he did, he'd be on par with Father on terms of the rich. His embraces were warm. It makes you believe the heat is coming out of love. And 99.9% of it is true. The .1% is only when he holds Father back from hurting me, or doing anything stupid.

Maybe that's why he convicts himself as my guardian. He was the first ever man to protect me from Father. During so, he had even gotten his two back teeth taken out. I felt so guilty about it afterwards; I was on my knees, begging for forgiveness. He overlooked it, saying, _"Oh, it doesn't matter. I've got about four more anyways."_

Jim Tristanhelm. A man. A friend. A parent. A grandparent. A limo driver. And despite the loathe I hold for the title, he is my protector.

We broke apart, taking our hands off at the same time.

This clumsy lull fell about. No words were told. And no action was taken. We just…looked at each other. Stared, rather.

My head bridged directly to his chin. When I come back-no matter of it's a day, a week, or ten years-I wonder if I'd be taller than him? Would I be stronger? Probably. Now that I am without Father's money, I know I'm going to have to work my ass off for a living. I have to buy make-up first though, since no scrawny, fifteen-year old girl would be given a serious job these days. Would I have changed? Definitely. No doubt. Would he? Maybe.

Would Father? Positive. He'd be more untamable. More wild. More violent. More of everything I can think of that the world doesn't need. Greediness. Selfishness. The courage to control everything in his sight. I began to feel bad, since I'm dumping Father onto Jim, and of course the others in the house. They could barely handle him when he's owned everything he wanted. And now that his precious money-maker was gone, he is for sure going to freak. I've never seen him do it, but some nights, the image would trample my dreams and transform it into a nightmare.

_'So it's really the time, huh?'_

It is. Yes, Jim, it is. Slowly, I forcefully moved my foot one step down. And another, and another. But slowly. Before I had realized, I was already on the path of a runaway. I didn't dare to look back. I'm pretty sure Jim has his back turned against me, too. If anything, at least he can honestly say, "No. I didn't see Mikan leave."

We didn't say goodbye. No _I'll miss you'_s, or _Be safe_, or _Good luck's_. He and I both knew that I'd be home bound before we can even think of saying cheesy lines meant for departures. I wasn't departing; simply going out in the backyard that belonged to me. The world. It's a big place; that part I understood. It's not always trustworthy, pleasant, and divine. But it all depends where I end up going. By all means, I am taking careless risks, and I don't mind one bit. For the most chapter of my life, I have lived protected. Either by Mom or Father. This power of mine; this mind-reading; it's pushed me into a being where she _can't _be her true self. Everytime an adult or teacher says, "Be your own person," I have to use tons of tenacity to prevent me from slapping them across their dainty, lying faces.

I want to do this. So bad. I don't care if I become a hobo; I'm free to roam. I don't care if I become an orphan if Father decides to disown me; I just really don't. This is a second chance for me to make things right. To make my life right.

I had reached the ground. The natural ground; not the floor that's held up by Father's millions. For a second, I stood still, pondering if I should bid a farewell to Jim after all. But then I recalled the mental prep conference in my head just minutes ago. I didn't do that for me to crumble under pressure in the end.

I began walking. My backpack jagged up with every stride I took. Jim had exited my thirty feet radius since long, so it was just me and the song of the crickets. Father had once mentioned that he hated the sound of them. And again, I wondered by the next time I come down this walkway, would it be dead silent? That's kinda lonely.

I passed the hedge maze that had gotten me lost for three hours.

I passed the outside fountain; tall, majestic, and filled with diamonds.

I passed the greenhouse, and the birdcage within it.

I passed the garage which sheltered Father's fifty, collecter's-item cars.

I passed the garden. I passed yet another hedge maze.

I passed many places before, finally, reaching the front of the main gates.

Iambled over to the right side first, where Liam, an outside guard, was supposed to be stationed in this thing that seemed like it was built for a movie ticket seller, rather than a high-salaried security. I peeked in through the glass windows, cupping my hands around my eyes, but saw nothing. I glanced over my shoulder and to the left side. The lights were on in that cubicle, but not a figure was spotted either.

That's unusual. Liam and Derek never leave their posts. Never. And they were normally on shift around this time. I trotted over to Derek's place to be sure he didn't, like, faint on the floor or something. But after I made a thorough check, he didn't. Where the hell were they?

I looked up to the sky dumb-founded, somehow wondering if the answer showed there. But as I did, a flood of newborn sunlight had occupied one third of it already, and I earnestly couldn't waste another minute.

As fast as my stubby, shaky legs could go, I ran for the small gate door off to the right. My hands were impacted with cold steel as I wrapped my fingers around one spike, ready to open. I didn't hesitate in doing so. I pulled my hand towards me, also widening the gap. I took one part of my body out, and another. I gently closed the gate with ease, and walked away.

...I'm…out?

I walked.

I'm really…easily...out?

I walked.

No one's watching me. No one knows I'm out?

I walked.

I'm out.

In a quick motion, I found myself skipping. I couldn't see it, but I could definitely feel that there was this big, idiotic smile splattered on my face. The air suddenly felt cleaner. The wind suddenly felt warmer. Everything seemed to change within that one taste of freedom. I'm out, man!

There was this new emotion coming into me. It was never there when I made this decision, and it certainly wasn't there when I walked away from Jim. I think, though I'm not too sure, this is what they call a _once-in-a-lifetime experience._

My adrenaline was abruptly speeding, and my endorphins were kicking in; you know, in a joyous way. This lane I so ever happily bounded upon on was a sad road before; it was the road Father and I would generally take to go to casinos and such. But today, I'm not going to a casino. And he isn't with me.

I'm free to go wherever I want, whenever I want, and with whoever I want. I'm free!

Wait. Oh God, Hotaru. I had almost forgotten to tell her. Is she going to freak? Is she going to hate me because I didn't tell a word to her about this? I swore to myself I'd call her later in the day, right before I leave this putrid town somehow. But not now. My heart was too light and my hands were too busy dancing in nothingness for me to reach my phone.

But then, they stopped.

_'Duck.'_

With that unexpected, unwelcomed thought, they stopped and froze in midair.

In that tiny, split second, I was only aware of one thing, and one thing only.

I am not alone here.

Hands; rough, scratchy hands; grabbed hold of both my wrists and glued them together behind me. A knee-or is it a foot?-plunged into my calves, bringing me down on the sidewalk with my forehead slammed onto the concrete. One, heavy body sat on top of me, his grip still prisoning my arms. From the corner of my eyes, I saw the mansion. Un-changed. It made me sure that I was still on Earth. I was still Mikan Sakura. I was still conscious and hadn't accidentally fallen asleep during my escape and was dreaming. A sharp pain in my spine also reminded me.

I yelled.

"Oh, sorry," a gruff tone said, somewhere above me. "Didn't mean to break your bones, princess." It's a human. Though animal-like and took actions that of a beast, he could speak English, and was therefore, a human at the very least.

And when I think of humans, I know something should be happening right now. But nothing was.

He's touching my bare skin. He's within my thirty-feet bubble. What's going on?

I squirmed, trying so desperately to just get myself away from this stranger. I knew he wasn't a crazy paparazzi reporter, because the familiar click of the cameras never came.

"Who are you?" I screamed, struggling.

"Me? The question is, 'who am I'?"

I halted, for the smallest portion of time, and resumed the battle for my freedom. Funny. Just when I thought I'd gotten it, too.

"Get off me! You bastard!"

"Aw, little miss spoiled brat gots a potty mouth. Can't have that at hollywood parties, can't we?" The direction of his voice changed, as if he was talking to someone else. "Hey! Hurry up, will ya'? We're in front of her house, man. Don't be slow."

"I know," a person replied back, sounding distant. "The ropes got tied together and I can't break them apart."

Ropes. Ropes. Ropes. This is not happening.

I strived even more after hearing the simple, so simple, word. I managed to get one of my legs fully mobile under his weight, and I powerfully bent it backwards, somewhere in the man's body. It didn't feel high enough to be his neck, and it wasn't as low as his thighs, so it must be there.

He hollered painfully, and the minute I was certain I hit his weak spot, I kicked and punched some more, hassling like it was the last thing I'll ever do.

But as soon as I got the top half of my body released in the air, two, strong arms grasped mine and pulled the remaining part of my legs free. I screamed again, thinking it was the man's acquaintance. I did everything I could possibly do to get away from him.

"Stop," my holder said. He sounded different. And something about his voice slowed my flinging arms momentarily. "I'm not the bad guy."

Yeah, right. My craze returned. With every strike I tried to inflict upon him, with every smack I tried to lay on his face, he easily stopped. He was quick enough to block even my kicks.

"Hey. Get down here. She's getting annoying," he said.

"Then you handle those two." Oh great. Just how many were planning to ambush me? I heard a branch bounce, a rustle in some nearby bush, footsteps coming closer, and before I knew it, a long cloth was being tied into my head.

I opened my eyes immediately, as I only comprehended now that I had them shut this whole time. From the second of sight I got out before the person had completely blindfolded me, I saw the two original men. A vigorous, bald one was on the ground curled into a ball. I'm assuming he was who laid his hideous butt on me. And there was this suited, military-haircutted man, attempting to get his partner back up on his feet and making him realize they aren't the only people in the scene. The last detail I caught was that they both wore white sunglasses.

But, most obviously surprising, were the beautiful color of red. They were fierce, yet calm. Loose, yet seemed so guarded. They fluttered away, in the direction of the two guys who initially attacked me. It was a beautiful, disgusting hue. And they belonged to a a pair of eyes.

But who's?

_'Sorry Mikan.'_ "Sorry Mikan. But deal with it." Someone was beside me, their voice sounding like a feminine silk thread.

I was forced on the floor, with my hands being held behind my back again. Though this time, I hadn't crash landed...too bad. It still hurt, but that pain wasn't as worse. The person was handling me somewhat carefully; knotting a soft, neon rope around my wrists intensely. Under my blindfold, I couldn't see a thing, but I'm sure she's a girl from the touch of her hands.

And not just that. They felt accustomed. Like this isn't my first time making contact with her.

Her voice. Her tone. Her aura.

I'm, bewildering as it is, still alive and well to know that she's familiar, despite the circumstances.

And different. I just heard her thoughts. Though, when she remained within my radius, I wasn't able to.

_'Duck.'_ That must've been her. That's odd; how I can read her mind, and sometimes I can't.

"Good morning," she said, tying the final knot.

A faint, golden light seeped in through the blindfold and through my eyelids, taking the darkness of the night away, as a keen pound was hurdled on the nape of my neck. I heard a distinct gun shot, before blacking out.

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><p>Was this chapter a bit too fast-paced? I think so :P This is under revising, so if it's crappier than my usual work, I AM SO SORRYY! I'm revising tomorrow, though(: And I know I don't sound like I mean it, but THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU SO MUCH for your guy's reviews! They really mean a lot to me, and inspire me to continue this story! Like seriously, thank you!<br>Stay smexy!  
>(A.N.- KYAAAA! Natsummmeeeee~! You're finally here!)<p> 


	7. The First Confession

Tried to get this in as early as I could(: And I'm so, so sorry if my writing has gown down a few levels lately. You know, softball, school, friends, drama, peer pressure...just the average life of a teenager gets in the way of it all, right? /: So I'm like really sorry you guys. I'll try to keep up with my originals. Oh, and I decided to shorten my stories by around 2,000 words. It's not all going to be the about the same length as chapter 2. I read it myself from reader's perspective two nights ago, and I felt like it was just waaay too much. Enjoy!

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><p><span>Chapter Six: The First Confession<span>

Okay, imagine this.

You're in an abandoned warehouse; It's dark and humid. Your body is numb due to the fact that you've been thrown on a cold cement ground that probably has more than 50 types of germs lurking about. The ceiling is high, and the only windows in the place are small and too far up to even see what's outside. There are fans somewhere, you can hear them, but their silent rotation won't help clear your skin of the sweat dripping out of each pore. Your head is throbbing like crazy. And, of course, you're tied up in every way a hostage could be.

Got it? You have the picture? Good. Now, take that image, make a hard steel bat in your mind, and swing it at everything I told you. Brake my words, because they don't mean a thing.

Well, actually, I was confined for the most part. The second I began to wake up, I felt ropes strangling my wrists. Same with my ankles, knees, elbows, and just below the tip of my shoulders. The sticky remnants of a duct tape was all over my mouth, although it wasn't there when I came to. And a blindfold wasn't shielding my sight anymore.

That much I was certain of when I came back to reality. But instead of finding myself in a spacious warehouse where every kidnapped child is supposed to be taken at (just like in the movies), my surroundings consisted of exactly the opposite.

It took me a few tries to adjust my eyes, but eventually, it all became clear.

The first thing I noticed was cleanliness. No bugs, no flies, no decapitated head rolling about or the wailing screams of a poor girl who was having something very important stolen from her. The second was the color white. The walls were white. The floor, which I'm draped upon on, was white. The ceiling, too. It also wasn't very big. Estimated, it's the size of a hospital private ward. In fact, the air reeked of medication and thick disinfectant. As I cautiously scoped the room, there were medicine cabinets nailed around the perimeter, all clearly empty. Monitors weren't in sight, so the thought that I might be in a hospital was blown gone.

I scrunched my eyes in agony and drew in a sharp breathe as a big, burning ache erupted somewhere near my brain.

What the hell happened?

The awaiting questions begin to river into my mind, recapping what I remembered before I was knocked unconscious.

Where am I?

Who were those four people?

And though I shuddered at the thought, how many days have I been out? My temples throbbed. My stomach churned at its hollowness. My mouth felt dry and, for the first time, depleted. I stared at the white wall in front of me, its plainness helping me concentrate through the circling migraine.

Beginning to collect my memories, I thought about what I recently remember; there were two in the beginning, both men and both trying to kidnap me. They worked together. They had a rope. They were so close in succeeding if it wasn't for another two that showed up. Them; boy and girl. Boy assisted me in getting away, only to trap me in the other girl's clutch. Girl enveloped my movable limbs with a neon cord. There was a gun shot as I blacked out.

So now, here I am, at an unknown location with no clue of my situation whatsoever. Really? Don't these sort of scenes only happen in sick fantasies?

The only thing I can assume of is that I had been taken by the boy and the girl. That was my final certainty of the moment. It can be considered as a blessing, but also it's contrast in another direction. I mean, at least I had someone to empathize with. That's so much better on its own rather than having two, fully grown men lock you away with the initiative to do God knows what. It really is much better, but I still categorize it a worse-case scenario. I'm supposed to be roaming the freaking world right now. What am I doing getting freaking kidnapped? _In front of my own freaking house, too. _Admittedly, it was a good surprise attack; the location, the strategy, and the time, just before the sun fills the sky. They had the right guts to attempt something so risky. But they also had the wrong heart to take _me, and me especially. _I understand that it may because I'm a world-renowned daughter. They probably think I'm worth billions, and more billions added to that. They probably think Father will do anything in his expertise to try and get me back.

But see, two things isn't right with that basis:

Father will not only for sure get me back, but he'll do it without spending one cent. Either if it's deceiving my kidnappers, or simply doing them in, he has his ways to work around what others want. Second is the whole idea. Seriously? I had just gotten my freedom. Not even a second after taking it on a joy ride was it swindled from me. Again. I've been a good girl. I did what Father wanted me to accomplish. I helped him fulfill his dreams. And if it makes you feel any better, God, I'm still weighted down by the guilt of what took place three years ago. Why won't you let me get a taste of what I need for once? Is it because it's wrong for me to crave what others take for advantage?

Oh, please. Don't cry Mikan. Don't. You've already swore not to. I'm not letting you brake that just because of this small bump on the road.

Instead, a groan escaped my lips, 50% representing my tears, and 50% representing the strain that echoed inside my arms and legs.

On a sudden impulse, I wiggled my body, turning it to my other side so I can get a perspective of what's to my left, but what I found myself looking upon on was the simplicity of a bed sheet. It was - surprise, surprise - white, thin, and I'm guessing since it didn't touch the floor, lead somewhere above. I followed the sheet, slow and anxious, trailing my stare on its every stitch. When I finally got there, I was right; it's a bed. There was a bed next to me. Or rather, I was next to it.

I don't think it was vacant, either. From the ground view I managed to squeeze out of my angle, there was an elbow slightly sticking out of the edge. It was bent in a way that suggested its palm was rested underneath a head. I wasn't surprised that I didn't hear anything when a human is this close to me. By now, I didn't care for I have later to question about it.

I gulped, feeling doubtful. But I realized that with every doubt I let crawl upon me would only waste my time. "…Hey," I whispered.

Nothing.

"Hey," I said, my volume rising.

Nothing.

"Hey!" I yelped, short, quick, and tight, making sure it didn't ring out just in case if anyone would hear.

Still, nothing.

I grew worried. There was a possibility that he's a guard who's put in charge of me. I might've even made the foolish mistake of trying to wake him up. But there was an equally as good chance that he, too, was someone taken captive and we were stranded on the same boat. As much as I hate bragging or stating my best features, I was considerate of others and will never let a person fall flat on their butts without doing anything. So, by nature, I'd rather help him than myself, even if it proved to be useless and leave me to my doom.

"Hey!" I kicked the leg of the bed nearest to me, and due to the fact that I couldn't use just one foot since the two were straddled together, I kicked it with twice as much force as I had intended.

Just from outside of the door on the south wall, footsteps were echoing softly behind it as voices were audibly whispering.

"-don't think we should go in, yet!"

"I need to make sure she's okay."

"Don't worry. He's watching over her. Remember? You assigned him."

"No. I don't remember. I don't even trust that guy."

They gradually got louder, and I glued my eyes shut in time when the door hinge carefully opened, a squeak born from the action.

"Oh, please. Don't hesitate."

There was a manly grunt, followed by the knob abruptly hitting hard against the wall it was bolted to. I let a slit form between my eyelids, allowing me to see just a little portion of what was occurring in the room.

My position wouldn't let me look passed their necks, but the fact one wore a skirt lengthening to the knees and the other boyish pants led me to believe they were a man and a woman. The woman confidently stood, her hand resting on the golden door knob and another also placed on her hips. The man was crouching cowardly behind her, holding his hands up as if to silence her. I spotted his chin jerking towards me, to make sure I hadn't woken up from the loud noise the woman made.

"Shh, shh! You'll wake her up!"

"That idiot could never be woken up by something so belittle as this." Oh. It was her. She was the same girl who had knocked me unconscious the night, or nights, before. My power allows me to have excellent hearing recollection. It's sort of like photographic memory. Once a voice is introduced to my ear drums, I will never, ever forget it.

"Wait, what is she doing on the floor?"

Black heels clicked towards me, stopping short at the foot of the bed adjacent to my body. "You heard him, and I know you're awake. Answer me."

For a second, I thought that my jig had been up, even though it hadn't begun yet. I forced and coaxed myself to not open my eyes, despite the wrecking urge to. I was about to uncover my mouth to speak my confession, but the words were already out, without my lips moving. Someone else is talking. And whoever is was, their voice was new, rather familiar. It came from above me; the only place that could hold a person up there was the bed.

"She won't mind." Not a minute to soon did I realize that he was the owner of the elbow I viewed earlier, and was also the accomplice of the girl who took me.

"And why's that?"

"She's not complaining."

At least, I found my two perpetrators. If I ever get out of here, which _I will, _I know where to start.

"Hyuuga, she's asleep. Get her back on the bed."

"Relax. I only traded places with her for the last ten minutes."

"Hyuuga," the girl said, speaking in a defining tone.

There was a pause lingering, which was then broken by a tired sigh. I heard the bed squeak, and from beneath on the other side of it, two feet came down and touched the floor bare. They made way out of my given field of vision, eventually exiting it. I didn't catch a look at his face, but his tone suggested he was no more than in the late twenty's.

"Hyuuga," the girl in the heels called emphatically. "Put her back."

"No need." The voice seemed far; far as in already halfway through the door. For some, weird reason, I felt his, and his particularly, eyes staring a hole dead straight through my head. "She can do it herself."

And for some other weird reason, I felt like _all _pairs of eyes were on me now.

"What do you mean?"

"Hey, stupid. He's talking to you."

Trust me, I tried so, so, _so_ hard to act like I'm asleep. I figured that if I did, I would get more information that they're willing to give me. But I'm not a talented actor, especially when someone is directing the spotlight right on me and addressing me_ stupid._

Before I could rebel, my eyes were gaping clear. I couldn't speak, for I was examining each face individually.

"Uh…" The first man I saw was the strange one. From the texture of his pores, he's 29 years and 6 months old. 6'1" tall. 134 pounds. Pur..purple eyes? He smiled as I looked at him, which surprised me because it was a genuinely happy grin. The bottom part of him looked normal, but the top was what bewildered me. He had on a frilly, green shirt with its curls bouncing in the air. Was he gay?

"Um…" Next was who ratted me out. My watcher, who apparently was wide awake when I thought he was knocked out. I sent him a scowl the minute I laid my nervous gaze on him, but it disintegrated 1/3 of the way through. It was destroyed under his mere, unanticipated focus. Red. Blaring. Beautiful. Disgusting. He owned such a pair of eyes. They pulled me me in, pleadingly and begging, but the depth I got farthest was only shallow.

His skin radiated a dim color; shiny and flawless, yet wonderfully tanned. And while I was at it, I noticed his defined muscles lining themselves in his arms, exposed by his dark-colored tank top. No doubt was he only 16, regardless of his masculine features. Funny thing was, I managed to interpret all of his characteristics within a five second mark. Unintentionally, at that. It's like his body screamed _LOOK AT ME._

He rolled his eyes at me, obvious he caught me stupidly gawking, and pushed himself off the edge of the doorway he was leaning against on. He walked down the corridor, his steps ringing within the room. If it wasn't for him breaking off our brief connection, I'm pretty sure I'd still be staring by now.

My eyes eventually found themselves on the last target.

"I wasn't-"

But then I broke off.

"-Ho-? Ho-?"

I wasn't really startled that I couldn't calculate her out; I was more startled that I didn't have to.

With one glance I already knew everything there is to her. From the day she was born to the afternoon where she almost lost her life. I know how her blood type, allergies, DNA pattern, height, and weight. I know how much she loves to blackmail. I know how she strategizes to manipulate people. I know that she doesn't give up when she wants something. Above all, I know she wasn't supposed to be here. Yet, she is. This stranger that loomed over me…wasn't such a stranger after all.

"_HOTARU?" _As it came out, I refused to believe it myself.

Her face was void of emotion. Usual. "Good morning."

"Hotaru!"

"Keep it down."

"…Hotaru? Hotaru."

"Yes." She walked closer to my immobile self and squatted gracefully down to my level. "This is not a dream, if you thought it was."

"What the hell are you doing here?" I yelled in her face, my eyes bulging thirty acres wide.

"Fifteen and a half years ago, my mother gave birth to me. An-"

"That's not what I meant! What are you doing here, as in…_here_?" I tried to flail my arms around to gesture, but since they were tied back, I used my head instead, bobbing it at every direction.

She stood up once more. With a turn, she returned beside the older man, and whispered something secretive in his ear.

I didn't bother trying to read his mind. I already knew I couldn't from the start. But mostly was because I was too focused staring after Hotaru's back, dumbstruck.

A clone?

A twin?

An amazing discovery of someone who walks, talks, acts, and have the same pressuring demeanor as her?

She sent me a sidelong glance before making her way out the room.

I flinched. "Hotaru!" Should I even call her that? "Where are you going? It's not safe here. Get out and call help!"

"Don't worry, she's not going far."

I snapped my head towards the voice, and found that the man was nearing me, his hands stretched out.

"My name is Anjou Narumi, Miss," he greeted as he held under my arms and helped me balance upright.

By the sudden contact, I began shouting and attempting to wedge myself off from his grasp. "Get off me, you stupid pervert!" But as I did, my feet, being tied together by a fierce hold of ropes, slipped from below me, sending hurdling to the floor. I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth for the painful blow.

But it didn't come. Even after I waited for an awfully long time, nothing hurt. Instead, I felt the sensation of arms winding around my waist, bringing me up in the air. When I allowed myself to see again, I was already being perched on the man's shoulders with either hand holding between my thighs and calves, and on my ankles.

"What the _hell?_" I said, struggling even more.

"Please don't move unless you want me to accidentally let go of you."

I whipped my head around to get all the hair out of my way, which was taken out of its ponytail from before. But it only made more strands sticks to my sweaty cheeks. "Well, I do! Man, let me go!"

He laughed. "Sorry, no can do," he playfully replied, now taking a steady beat in his feet.

"Wait, where are you taking? Where's Hotaru?"

He halted. And laughed again. "I can tell the next few minutes are going to be a rough ride for you."

And just like everyone else who was previously in the room, he exited out into the hallway, lugging me, who was shrieking at the top of her lungs.

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><p>"Narumi" hoisted me over his shoulder, around his head and placed my still body onto the chair. As he pulled away after checking I was positioned comfortably, his eyebrows furrowed when our eyes met.<p>

"Scary faces don't look good on cute girls, like yourself," he said, smiling anyways.

"Then untie me, let me out of here, and let me find Hotaru," I snarled. He had forcefully dragged me into this dark room, dimly lighted by a single hanging lightbulb which dangled over us. Everything else was veiled by the darkness with the exception of another plastic chair, vacant across from me. The place seemed like it popped straight out from a CSI episode, where the good guys take the bad guys so they could "ask some questions". (Torture, basically.) I couldn't make out any windows, and the door in which we came from had already slipped my mind. In short; no quick escapes.

My heart skipped. Shit. Am I gonna get die?

Narumi crossed his arms and pursed his lips. "Geez, you're a tough nut to crack, ain't ya'? How many times have I told you _not _to worry?"

"What?"

"You didn't hear me? Or maybe you just weren't listening. Well, on our way here, I kept telling you to calm down. Nothing bad's going to happen to you. Relax!"

On our way here? Then I really wasn't listening. Way back in my head, below all the thoughts, anxiousness, and aches that rampaged inside of me, I _did _hear some annoying, high-pitched grumbling. I didn't know it was him. Ignoring him, I said, "Look, I know what you want. And I can guarantee you right now, before you make the biggest mistakes in your lives, that I can't give it to you. If you didn't notice, I was in the middle of breaking all ties with the Sakura family when your goon and Hotaru caught me." I stopped and thought about something, glancing away. I turned back to him. "Matter of fact, why is Hotaru even here in the first place?"

With a dramatic sigh, he threw his hands up in the air, circling his back to me. "I give up! You won't ever listen!" Narumi glared in my direction over raised shoulders.

"What?" I asked again.

"I feel bad for her."

I eyed him conspicuously. "Who?"

As if on cue, a bright, expanding light suddenly filled the room, destroying the dark and making the bulb's light so weak. I craned my neck around to where the light seemed to be the strongest, finding an open door with a shadow in the midst of it. It started gliding towards us, letting the luminous glow be. As the figure came closer and drifted apart from the gleam, I began to see more of their facial features when the feeble shine of the lightbulb illuminated _her_ face.

Yes; her.

"Hotaru!" I exclaimed, almost doing a 360 in my seat to get a better sight. "Hotaru!"

"I heard you the first time," she replied, raising her fingertips to plug her ear. "Narumi."

He raised his eyebrows. "Hm?"

"How'd the breakage go?"

"None too well," he sighed. "She won't let me get anywhere, I swear."

"I warned you. She's a stubborn idiot." She strided past me and sat her bottom on the other empty chair, viewing down on her now crossed legs. Narumi stood by her with folded hands and the same lively smile.

From behind me, the light from outside seemed to get languid. The next second, the room was once more overtaken by countless hues of black as a soft bang metallic bang rang. And, hooray-hooray for the mere lightbulb, it recovered its reigning control.

I turned back again. Somehow, _somehow, _ despite that I couldn't see anything that outranged five feet around me, I quickly spotted a pair of dark eyes in the distance, a dim shade of maroon overlapping them. They stared back at me with a tensioned, focused gaze. I have never seen eyes that were so sure, so still, and yet I'm sure it's not my first time meeting them. It's as if they belonged to a dead man, but also as if the king of life owned them. God, they were beautiful. Beautifully disgusting.

Unhesitatingly, a name instantly leaped into my head; _Hyuuga_.

"Hey, you'r -"

"As much as I'd love to see another girl fall to Hyuuga's whim, I have important business to talk to you about."

I whirled to my former pose, facing Hotaru now, as a muted, husky scoff was heard from my far rear.

"Natsume, be quiet!" Narumi scolded.

"What? No, no. Tha -" I tried.

"How's the ropes? Too tight?"

"Wait, huh?" I then willingly changed subjects with her. "No, no, list - Hotaru, what t - what the hell is going on here? Where are - I mean, why are you _with _them?"

"Stop stuttering. I'll be happy to answer your questions if you can make any sense."

I had my chest leaning out, bringing my mouth nearer to her. "Stuttering? How can I not! I've been kidnapped, out of nowhere, only to find out that my best friend is wh -!"

I pinched my lips in a thin line, shutting them up before I said something unnecessary and, hopefully, untrue. I sucked in a deep breathe, and exhaled only a small portion of it through gritted teeth.

"Okay," I whispered, locking my stare with Hotaru's. "What the fuck is going on?"

She didn't flinch the slightest after hearing my first real cursing. She looked somewhere passed my neck, nodded, and turned her attention back to me. "That's reasonable. But first, would you like to get the ropes off?" Half of a millisecond later she continued, "Nevermind, it's better with them on.

"Mikan, what I'm about to tell you is something you should've known since long ago. The right time has never came until now."

I groaned. "I feel like we've been through this. Please, just get to the point and make sure to confess _everything_."

She smiled, a funny glow jumping about in her eyes. "Fine."

Remember how I told you she doesn't beat around the bush? Well, whoever she was, fake Hotaru or real Hotaru, that lone fact never alters.

"The truth is simple. I'll start from here; you are not your parent's biological child."

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><p>I know, it's sad that she's not her parents real daughter ): but trust me, I know where I'm going with this(;<p>

So, how was it? Horrible? Amazing? Disgusting? _Delicious? _Review people, and thanks!(: (Seriously, though. Review please, and tell me some constructive criticism. I feel like I'm losing my old writing ways, so I need you guys to tell me if and what I'm doing wrong. I'd appreciate it!)

Stay smexy!


	8. When Reality Catches Up

Wooooh! It's been a long timee(: sorryy! HEADS UP. This chapter is purely crap. I have no excuses, but I just couldn't find any other way to change this to make it better. I was already halfway done anyways when I realized that it was sooo bad. So it wasn't so much of writing the chapter that took me so long time to write this, but the revision. Trust me, it was hard as hell. Well, if you let the few paragraphs of shit slide by, it might be a good chapter(: enjoy!

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><p><em>Chapter 7: When Reality Catches Up<em>

"You're kidding."

"Such a word doesn't apply to me."

"But you have to be kidding!"

"I don't have to be anything."

"You can't just say—_Ugh! You're so impossib_—You have to be kidding!"

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose with her finger and thumb. Despite her weary impatience, her posture remained un-slugged and un-ruined (if those are actually words.) "Mikan, we have been on this topic for more than five minutes. _Five_ minutes. I would like to move-"

"You have to be, Hotaru! That's _absurd;_ why in the world would you even play a joke like this? I. MEAN. _Really_? _REALLY_? It's enough that you abducted me and tied me up—_I swear I'm gonna have scars from these stupid ropes_—but you have the nerve to tell me I'm not my parent's child? That's too far!" She looked like she was about to retort something back, but my mouth wouldn't, couldn't, stop. "Actually, you crossed the line the minute you knocked me out. This is lunacy! Hotaru please. If this is your way of telling me it's wrong to run away, then I'll go back. Just, untie me, and take back everything that came out of your lips." It's like all I knew about periods, commas, and correct grammar flew out the non-existent window.

"I'm sorry, but I can't. Lying doesn't appeal to me either."

I threw my head up in frustration, jaw cocked. "So how do you explain this nonsense?"

"An explanation? It's the truth. You're only making this much harder than it needs to be."

"I have to! You're saying I'm not my parent's daughter?" I hissed, narrowing my eyes at her.

"We've established that two minutes ago."

"And I have to believe you?"

"That, on the first."

"Okay, I'm officially worried. Did you, like, have a concussion? Did you forget that you're my friend, not the person I want to kill?"

"Honestly, I am neither."

I jerked a few centimeters behind me, looking absolutely horrified. "Seriously. Stop joking, stop lying."

She paused. "Honestly, I am not."

"Hotaru!" I leaped up from my seat, preparing myself for the big lunge I was about to tackle her in. But as I barely moved an inch, I felt a heated hand compressing deeply on my shoulder, slowly yet effectively pushing my back into the chair. With bared teeth, I looked up at the brave, brave person daring to restrain me. Bam! Hazel clashed with red, and almost instantly did the red win.

I didn't care how fast he got here. I didn't care how he seemed to read my actions. But as he stared down at me, all I could feel was fury building within the seconds passing, despite the collected air that swirled around him. Noticing the little effort he put in holding me down when it took tons of my energy to attempt to be freed from his grip, I sighed a forced breathe. For the last time, I glared at Hyuuga, and turned it with twice as much intensity to Hotaru.

"Fine," I complied. "Okay, suppose I were to give in to this madness. Where would we go from there?"

"Depends. What would you like to know?"

"How good you can convince me within one minute. Because if I'm not convinced by then, this idiot's hand would've been bitten off and your neck would be wringed _flat._"

She raised an eyebrow at me, a small smirk tugging at the ends of her mouth. "You want to murder me?"

"Obviously, I don't! But—but I have no clue what to do right now. This is crazy."

"Well," she sighed. "It won't matter if you choose to believe me or not. But I don't want to murder you, either. I'm not out for your money, glory, or the pleasure of seeing you terrified down to the bone. I'm protecting you, and you'll have to cooperate with me so my efforts won't be futile."

"Protecting me?" I almost hollered. "And from what, may I ask?"

"Those two that tried to kidnap you."

A little, sarcastic laugh slipped from my dry throat. "Wow! Wow. Okay, I got it that they were after me, but you, of all people, should very well that I'm more than capable when it comes to defending myself. It's not a first."

_Once upon a sick, twisted time, there lived a thirteen year old girl named Sakura Mikan. She was abducted by five deranged sisters, all with the goal to make Mikan Sakura's father marry at least one of them, using her as bait. The five sisters would endlessly question her about how much her father makes, or how much he is planning to make. When she said something that their ears didn't find fitting, they would slap her. And beat her. Of course, she was returned to her house safely. But no one had been aware of this: the night she was taken was also her fourteenth birthday._

"So it wasn't necessary for you to swoop in and _'protect'_ me," I concluded. "I didn't need it. And besides, why take me here? You could've just taken me back to my house."

She shook her head. "Hector and Vin."

"…Hector and Vin?"

"Those are the men that tried to abduct you."

I furrowed my brows together. "How would you know that?"

"Because what you almost got yourself in was no normal kidnapping. Those two don't work alone." I gave her a look, urging her to press on further. "That night, which was only six hours ago Mikan—" Insert her _'you're-so-stupid-if-you-thought-it-was-ten-days'_ expression here "—they knew perfectly well that you were going out. They took that particular chance because it's a rare occasion when you would leave by yourself with no hefty bodyguards covering you."

"How did they know?"

"I said it before, and I'm not repeating it anymore; it was no normal kidnapping. Hector and Vin have been watching you since a month's length. —I'll explain later how I knew."

I closed my mouth, which parted for my question that didn't have to be verbalized, since she replied before I could ask it. "Keep going."

"That night, to prevent any discasualities, they snuck up on Liam and Derek—your two gate guards—and drugged them to sleep. They dragged their un concious bodies to a bush and hid it there for the time being. They're fine, so wipe that look off your face." I zipped my gaping mouth, and lowered my raised eyebrows. "As I was saying, when you finally came out, Vin and Hector immediately drove up to you, but you were probably too happily blinded to notice. Hector was the one who pushed you down. Vin took out the ropes from the car trunk. Any of that sound familiar?"

I racked my memories briefly, reminiscing through the dread and horror as my heart beat faster than the last. "I'm not sure," I confessed. "It does, but then it doesn't. I didn't hear any cars. And what do you mean, it was no normal kidnapping? Why would they watch me for over a month? Who are they?"

"Hyuuga and I were stationed outside your house, for we were given information that Hector and Vin would take action," she went on, ignoring me. "We were close enough to come in when things got dangerous. Hyuuga was able to drive them away for the being, and that's about when you passed out. And don't freak, I only hit your pressure point, not a vital organ."

"Wait, _you_ were waiting for me, too?"

"Yes."

"What about what happened after that?"

"Nothing interesting."

"So, that's the whole story?"

"In short."

It was only now that I realized how much her stoic attitude could get to me. For God's sake, she's telling me all of this real-or-not-real bullshit; the least she could do is wipe that expressionless expression off her face and show some sincerity.

But I didn't dare let that weave into my face and my tone. "I'm sure you realize that all of that flew over my head." _Intentionally._

"I do." She played with her nails, and sighed, looking like she was thinking about how to summarize the important details. "What did you miss?"

"Everything you said."

Narumi giggled—yes, giggled—behind her, as Hyuuga's clutch strengthened on my shoulder. I winced, flicking towards him, only to find his gaze was averted away. For a mere, off-topic moment, I wondered what he was staring at. A stain? A pebble? Nothingness? Whatever it was, he looked so focused.

And annoyed.

I turned my neck. "You mind summarizing?"

"Yes. But I know I'm deprived of any other choices," Hotaru spoke. "I trust you understood at least a small portion?"

"Yeah. I got what happened last night; Hector and Vin tried to kidnap me but you and Hyuuga saved my ass, yadi-yadi-yada. What I need is the crucial stuff. Like, who are they? Who do they work for? How do they know about me? Do they know about my mind-reading?

"Where am I? Why am I here? Who are these people?" I asked, sending a slight look to both Narumi and Hyuuga. "And I'm sure you saw this coming, but why are you here? Why were you 'stationed' outisde my house? It's obvious that you have a clearer intention on why you saved me, and I want to know it.

"One last thing? I'm still not convinced that I'm not a true Sakura."

"Woah, Miss," Narumi cut it. "You sure you want to know everything in one go?"

Hotaru rubbed her temples in a circular motion, as Hyuuga evenly let his grip loose and free. He stuffed his hands in his pant pockets, ever so naturally.

"She has the right to be informed of her situation," Hotaru said, sighing.

"But I don't think she'll believe us if she hears this so quickly."

"I thought I said in the beginning; I don't if she accepts it or not. My job is to get her caught up."

"Okay, fine," Narumi retreated, holding his hands up in defeat. "Take it away."

Hotaru locked gazes with me, as I felt my muscle tense up under the ropes. Beneath the low light, I could see myself in the reflection off her eyes, practically close to sweating an ocean due to the humidity. But I could hardly take note of that right now. Though it did feel hot, the temperature inside my body kept rising because of the lone fact of anxiously waiting to listen to what she'll say.

"Okay," I began, "start with thoroughly explaining who those dickheads, Hector and Vin, are. And after them, you're up, Hotaru."

* * *

><p><em>An Hour Later...<em>

About two things I made my mind up on when I left the room.

One; don't get quiet for too long. Words are a really good distraction for me right now, and I really need that.

Second; don't think. Thinking will only lead to my breakdown, which will then lead to stupid tears. That's the last thing I want to do at this moment.

So, keep talking, and don't think. Got it. I just hope I won't sound like a blabbering idiot.

But I probably do, though. I've been running my mouth for the past ten minutes without the hint of ever stopping. I'm amazed myself; the overwhelming feeling of danger never came upon me, or rather, I was brave enough to swap it away, when the person I'm agitating is someone who can, and probably would, break my jaw if I do it too much. And that's the only one here with me; Hyuuga.

"Man, it was hot in there!" I complained, probably for the umpteenth time.

Step, step, step. Click, heel, click.

"It wouldn't hurt if you guys buy an AC and _at least_ two light bulbs for the room, considering how...fancy you make this place seem." I let my eyes wander on the shiny, gray, steel walls that shaped this stupid, never-ending hallway. There were no windows, no intersections, no doors, no nothing. But despite my inability to tell the difference from one piece of the wall to another, I _solemnly_ swear, we've been going in circles. I swear.

"You sure we're not lost Hyuuga?" I asked, my voice echoing two fold. He passed me a small, sidelong glance with an emotionless scowl, and turned ahead again, not replying as he should.

Behind his back, I spiritedly made a face; tongue mockingly sticking out and brows knitting together. I repressed myself from making a noise, because something inside of the mature me that still miraculously exists told me it wasn't one of those times. He's bad enough as it is, I don't dare wonder what he's like when he's mad. But, no matter of my futile efforts, I think he saw—does he have eyes on his neck or something?—since the next sound that rung wasn't mine.

"Is it so hard for you to keep your mouth shut?"

"I didn't say anything," I snapped.

"You just did."

"You asked me a quest—!"

He mumbled something under his breath, breaking me off rudely. "I'm sorry, what?" I asked with much emphasis.

He sighed. "I wondered what I did so wrong to make me have to be stuck with you for a week."

Initially, I thought about how he and Hotaru are so alike; both so straightforward. Both so stoic, and plain, and just merely irritating. But then, fighting off the tendency to slap him across his mouth and address him as a dumb potato, I scoffed. "Funny. I want to know the same thing."

* * *

><p><em>Flashback:<em>

_"That's how much I now so far about your life, Mikan." She checked her wrist. "And it took an hour to explain everything. Unbelievable."_

_My head was pointed down, my eyes scattering amongst the many stains that my shoes held. "I-I...I don't..."_

_"Don't say you don't believe it. By now, you yourself know extremely well how true it all is."_

_"But...but...I just can't believe it."_

_Hotaru breathed mutedly, as she stood up from her chair. I couldn't look up, for the bewilderment, shame, and utmost vexation raging inside my veins wouldn't let me._

_"Maybe you should go to your room. To think about it," she suggested._

_"Oh, splendid!" Narumi chirped. "I just finished redecorating the place. I don't know if it'll suit your taste, but I'm sure you'll love it!"_

_"Hyuuga."_

_He was nonchalantly leaning against a wall, somewhere in this blend of darkness. Though his eyes shifted up, his body remained still as his name was called._

_"Escort Mikan to her room."_

_Without any rebellious words, he pushed himself off and began walking to me, arms still folded across his chest._

_"Actually," Hotaru added, making him stop in his tracks. "With that, I'm also assigning you to be her bodyguard for the next seven days. It's unfathomable when they will come and try to take her back, and you're the only person I know skilled enough to take on one of their members. Narumi and I will be busy, so I expect no casualities."_

* * *

><p>Okay, stop. Before I get in way too deep and start the water works, that just basically means I'm stuck with a stranger for the time being.<p>

Yes, Natsume Hyuuga. A hot-blooded, rash, beastly sixteen year old who's under strict instructions to be my guardian. Or, I'm guessing that's what he is from his appearance; you know, the typical hot playboy with the muscles, the face, the hair, and _oh, _the muscles.

We eat together, walk together, even sleep together. Not on the same bed, but we have to be in the same room. And based on how tight and over-ruling Hotaru is, the same rules apply for peeing and pooping (oh come on, people, everyone does it, so I have nothing to hide). That one I'm not going to go in detail about, since I, myself, had made a resolution to hold in whatever wants to come out. 'Cause, let's face it, who wants to go while someone is clearly listening to you? That's utterly disgusting.

Of course, when I had regained my common sense after Hotaru had issued the rule, I pleaded her to swap Hyuuga with Narumi instead. Though they're creeps basically on the same level, I can hypothesize that Narumi is gay. And gays won't go for or attack little girls such as me. I even recalled her saying that she doesn't trust Hyuuga with my protection. You know what her reply was?

_"Of course I don't trust Hyuuga. But you're awake this time, and therefore, you can defend yourself."_

So now here I am, being dragged by Hyuuga to our respectively shared cabins. We had left before Hotaru and Narumi did, so they probably went the other direction, unfortunately, which means that I'm on my own from here on out.

Most of the ropes had been stripped off my skin, leaving red, deep imprints and burns. One remaining knot was on my wrists; an extended part was held by Hyuuga, as if he's keeping me on a leash. He grasped it with a single hand, and therefore, I was given the option of yanking away and booking it.

Ha! I'm not stupid. A guy like him would be too vain to not equalize his structure; if he's ripped in the top-half, he's most likely to be ripped in the bottom, as well. Doing the math, muscular legs = Super Sonic.

"Okay, no joke. Are we lost?" The unwanted pleasure of hearing no response urged me to keep talking. "Maybe we took a wrong turn somewhere." I looked around. "But, I don't remember passing any other intersections. Are we, like, seriously lost in a one-way corridor? That's lame, man."

I took two measly steps before hitting a rigid body. A sharp grunt erupted from my throat, as my hands instinctively flew up to rub my nose. I immediately, yet clumsily took another two steps back. "What the hell! M—"

Hyuuga took out a key card and slid it into some device that opened the door that had magically appeared in front of him.

"Oh," I murmured sheepishly, fighting off the embarrassment as it rushed to my cheeks. "Sorry."

He entered first, as I followed in his wake. I briefly scoped the room; normal floors, normal walls, normal doors; the place seemed okay. Nothing over the lid, and nothing below the jar. Unlike the other places I've been at here, this one actually had windows. A hallway on the east sidewall led, I'm guessing, to the bed and bath rooms at the end of it. The kitchen consisted of a flat-top stove, along with a granite island counter. God, I was such a sucker for those. It felt so...cozy. Just cozy. Like a college dorm, for example.

Good job, Narumi.

Hyuuga freed me and walked over to the leather couch, placed just to the right of the left-side corner. As if it's his own home, he draped his legs on the end of one of the arms, as he crossed his under his head. He fluttered his eyes one, two, three times before finally gluing them down on each other. For an awkward moment, I stood in the middle of the room where he left me, my hands still bound together. Then, battling with myself and winning it, I trudged towards the cushioned chair adjacent to Hyuuga and sat.

"Are you just gonna sleep?" I asked him. "I don't mind, but I want these ropes off first. Don't worry, I won't try to escape. I'm smart enough to know that it'd be useless, anyways. It's just that they're cutting the blood circulation; I can barely feel my hands. Look! See that finger twitch? I meant to wiggle it. See, look! I di—"

"Shut up."

The silence that came after that wasn't as suffocating as I made it out to be. It was sort of a calm flow; being in a closed space with another person without hearing their thoughts added to it. It was just hard to keep my mind away from where it wants to be the most. Because once it runs out of things to occupy it, it'll eventually drift to the truth. The unbearable truth. The truth, which I had to wait fifteen years for, only to have my best friend break it to me.

I shook my head to rid of my impeding thoughts, and then did a visual sweep of the room, hoping to find something interesting enough to get my hard-earned attention.

_"Mikan," Hotaru said, "I'm here because—"_

They should really get some curtains for the windows.

_"Hector and Vin are from—"_

Something that matches the wall. Maybe pale blue?

_"—is why they're after you."_

No, it should stand out. Red is the best, then.

_"About your real parents—"_

Ah, who am I kidding, I don't care about that. Okay, okay, something else...

_"—are spies for us."_

Something else...

_"They work for us."_

Come on, anything...

_"They work _with_ us."_

Anything, please!

"Y-You know.."

Huh? Am I talking?

"I've been wondering..."

Oh, shut up! Find some other ways to distract yourself! You're only going to get Hyuuga more mad at you!

"Maybe we should get to know each other a little bit better. Since, we're spending a week together."

Unexpectedly, and though he kept me waiting, he eventually circled his head to me, his body still in tact in the same place. Startled, I flinched when our eyes met; not sure why, but maybe it's because under the bright lights of the room, they seem...lonelier than I last remembered them.

"What?" he asked.

"O-Or! It's a bad idea huh? Mhm, sorry."

With a sigh, he outstretched his arm to grab a manga off from the coffee table, and placed it open-paged on his face. "Yeah, it is."

"But!" No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn't let this conversation end. Pointless as it may, it's as distracting. "It can make me, um, trust you more. Or vice-versa. Or something."

My voice ringed about three times, before the sound became absent again.

It's not like I saw this coming, nor did I expect it. This was Hyuuga I was (or trying) talking to, after all, so it's almost goes without saying that he'd never reply to most of what I say. It's what I picked up on him between the time when I gave my first words to him and the silence that came after it.

Building up the courage to be the bigger person, I cleared my throat. "My name is Mikan Sakura, but you probably already knew that. Right. Um, fifteen years old, five feet and three inches, I weight around 110 pounds." No feedback. Keep going. "I was born in Michigan. The hospital of my birth was Redstone, at 10:37 A.M. I moved to California three ye—oh wait, I'm lying. None of these are true. Wow, sorry. All the things Hotaru told me just, um, slipped out of my mind."

I fiddled with my thumbs. I shuffled my feet. I bounced my knees up and down. I took incredibly long breathes. He'd be an idiot to not notice my anxiety.

"I-It's funny, huh?" I choked. "At this age you're supposed to know who you are. N-Not in, like, a dramatic way, but..."_Duh, no shit" _sort of feeling. But today, and everything else that came before all this, I'm not even sure of what to call myself. I feel like a newborn. A _clueless_ baby with no place in her world. Only I don't have a mother to tell me I'm hers."

"Listen."

My head perked up towards the sudden noise, a forced smile tugging at the ends of my lips in the hopes of getting some dialogue in. "Yeah?"

"I'm trying to sleep."

.._Aaand,_ there goes my ego. "Sorry." Thanks for caring, man. Really means a lot to me. Now I finally fully understood why girls can be so bitchy to other girls; boys won't pay attention to them. "Are you tired?"

"Obviously."

"Of course, 'cause standing really wears you out." I got on my two feet, stalking away as I, ever-so-reluctant, realized that he had no intention of continuing the conversation as I had failed to long for. My gaze found itself wondering down the hallway, pondering about what lies beyond each of the—in my opinion, lacking in number—two doors. I took no hesitation in heading towards them, purposely banging my shoes onto the wooden floor with every step I took.

But when my hand curled around the knob of the first door that was on my trip list, the screech of that Hyuuga never came. I peeked over my shoulder, and around the corner to get a slight look at him, wondering how he could be so...so..._immune. _And I didn't get my answer, since I found him sleeping. Still. With that random shounen manga veiling his eyelids from the living room light.

I rolled my pupils, as an exasperated breath hissing from my parted mouth. Twisting from the wrist, I gently swung it open and darkness is what I sought. My hand traveled along the walls in search for a switch, and when they found it, light immediately invaded.

It's a bathroom.

I took my whole body in, closing the door with both of my hands resting upon the knob. It's not just a bathroom now that I could get a good, breath-holding look at it. It was a _guy's_ bathroom.

Boxers draped where shower curtains should be.

Baggy pants and belts stuffed in dirty corners.

Tooth brushes are unsuitably on toilet seats.

And the one thing that gave it all away, other than the boxers, were the neatly placed shavers, shaving cream, and a notorious collection of Axe products that laid on the sink counter.

Okay, so this demonstrates my gullibility. Here I am, thinking I'd get this super brand new dorm with the latest designs; a hot tub, a jet shower, a bidet. But no, I get—

"—_this!_" I whispered while kicking a pair of jeans to the side. Two knocks came at the door, followed by an unmistakable sigh that I've been hearing a lot of lately.

"You didn't tell me someone lives here already," I called.

"Oh," Hyuuga shortly replied from the other side. "Hey, I live here."

"No, really? I had no idea."

"Open the door," he coolly demanded. "I don't want you touching my stuff."

"Relax, I'm right by the door, and my hands are Axe-free," I said as I leaned the back of my head on the doorway frame. "Why do you have so much anyways?"

"They aren't mine."

"What?" I accented. "Are you saying you live with another man? You're ga—!"

"Damn straight."

It was tiny. So minute, 99.9% of it would be inaudible to the human ears. But mine; they've been hearing things no one could have for the past six years. And because of that, I caught the thin thread of sarcasm in his voice. "Ha-ha. Hilarious." From outside, though, the familiar sound of bare feet thumping against the mahogany floor struck my ears, gradually getting softer and distant.

I creaked the door open, squinting my eyes through the small gap as they cautiously watched Hyuuga walking away, ready to retreat if he made the slightest move to turn back around. But he didn't; he lazily makes his way to the kitchen, as his hand went up to his messy hair and scratched it.

"Are you making breakfast?" I asked when he looked inside the refrigerator.

He bent down further, and the next time I could see his whole body, a can of chicken noodle soup was visible in his possession. "No, I'm making soup," he said as he slammed the fridge shut with his foot.

At the word, my stomach seemed to do a flip upside down and backwards, as a low, grumbling noise erupted from within it.

"For me," he added.

"Yeah, well, I'm not hungry." I cut off our connection, and erased the space the door made. It was just me and the same putrid essence of the room again. I reached forward and turned on the sink faucet, just as the distinct _tick, tick, tick _sound of the stove ready to start came in my ears. I am _so_ not hungry.

I slid my back down the wooden wall till my butt touched the tiles, and I huddled my arms around my legs as I buried my face into my knees. Something about running water just makes me think, especially since I'm finally alone to do so.

And that's when I let my mind roam. I held no barriers, no shield, no restrains from it; it was free.

But of course, because it was free, it was also impulsive. It thought about today, my life, who I really am. Though it pains me so, I thought about myself.

I thought about Father, Mom. I thought about how they could do what they had done to me. I thought about how I was so foolish not to see it. I thought about Hotaru, and how she's wrapped up in all this. I thought about how she was the cause for my fate to start moving in its direction. I thought about how she lied all these years. I thought about my future. I thought about where I should go. I thought about if I would even get to see the outside world ever again.

I thought about everything. And it just kills me whenever Hotaru's voice pops into my mind and remind me that my past was a big deception.

Hyuuga had activated the microwave from down the hall, and by the loud sound it made, I was sure he wouldn't be able hear me. I knew I would beat myself up after this, I knew I was going to regret it. But I couldn't hold it in anymore. It's been long, long over-due.

I'm sorry, Mom, I'm not as strong as I thought I was.

I pressed myself closer, and silently cried.

* * *

><p>Okaay, did not turn out how I wanted it to turn out : sorry guys. Before I wrote this chapter, I had so many plans and scenes for this that I wasn't able to squeeze in at the end. But don't worry, they'll come in the upcoming chapters. (: And no, Mikan and Natsume's relationship won't be the usual "I hate you!" kind of stuff. I decided to make theirs different cause I wanted it to be a bit interesting. Also, I won't portray Mikan as a weak-assed character. I just felt that naturally, someone would cry after hearing what she heard (you'll find out in the next chapter what Hotaru told her). Thanks for reading!

Stay smexy!


	9. The Truth Isn't Always Easy

Hey! So, I've been working on this chapter for a while, and I really feel proud about it. (: I think you guys will like this chapter, even though its confusing as hell. WARNING; long-ass chapter. Enjoy!

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 8: The Truth Isn't Always Easy<em>

I thought back to the time when my youth practically controlled my life. Back to when I dreamed of princes riding on white horses, and pumpkin-based carriages being drawn into the sunset, and floor-skimming gowns that were embroided with jewels I never imagined would be in my possession today.

These silly fantasies made me who I was then, and I always thought that they would help shape who I'll become in the near future. They reassured me that despite my age escalated a scary height each second, I lived with my heart in the lead. I, at least, won't be one of those adults who forgot themselves after a measly ten years of not letting their ambitions drive them to where they really want to be.

But it's funny. Hilarious, even. I've gotten everything. I have the gowns, the carriages, and the princes—which, I must say, proved to be unfit for my hand in marriage when they scurried away after a simple threat of "I'll drop kick you to Hell if you even dare to touch me." I've gotten everything I could possibly hope for, and yet, satisfaction and gratitude never beat in rhythm with my heart. Not once. For years—countless amounts of days within it—I searched and searched every corner to find those feelings I knew I should be feeling. I searched in money. I searched in clothes, shoes, and handbags. I searched in casinos. Everywhere. But it was only recently, when I'd had reality slapped in my face, did I find the answer to my foreboding questions.

Satisfaction, gratitude; they were always there. I just never had enough time to notice and appreciate them. They were there when Father, for the first time, told me he loved me ever since Mom died, but they were immediately covered when I was finally aware that he was drunk. They were there when I received an early birthday gift from Jim, but they disappeared with the realization he bought it with Father's dirty money, for that Jim's only source of payment. They were especially there when I met and befriended Hotaru, and though I know they're still and will be inside me, they've hidden right about when she came out with the truth two hours and forty-six minutes ago. It's funny how one can never be truly happy, for genuine bliss doesn't require a sacrifice. It's funny how stupid and unfair life is.

For a quick, split second, I wondered how it'd be if I was the one who'd die that night; if instead, it was me who was to be rid of originally anyways. On one hand, Father wouldn't be the way he is now. With his breathing wife faithfully by his side, he would've managed with a normal job, a normal home, normal people—A.K.A. kids who don't have supernatural abilities—around to be a positive influence on him, and more importantly, he'd have a completely normal life. I'm not saying that he and Mom wouldn't grieve over my death, it's just that I figure it would've been for the better for me to ascend up to heaven, not Mom. Because, you see, she has this magical touch that almost every mother seems to gain the minute the words "Congratulations, it's a baby girl!" have been said to them. Mom is enchanted, and I have no doubt whatsoever that Father wished it was me who went, as well.

On the other hand and also favorable on my part, I would've been at peace. Peace for me is booming silence and my stress level downgraded a whole notch. Peace for me is Michigan, and Michigan is heaven. What I don't consider peace is dealing with heavy mental abuse, putting up with Father and his constant mood swings, alternating myself so I can fit in with the environment I've been forced to cope with, feeling like I'm always dead when I'm in the center of the life of a celebrity.

And most definitely, peace isn't crying my freaking eyes out inside a dirty bathroom after I promised myself this was the sole act I was never going to commit, no matter how desperate things got. Turns out, I respect myself less than I respect Father. Pathetic.

I felt the door shake against my back, accompanied by three knocks coming from the other side. I lifted my head and let my nose breathe in air that hadn't mix with the bitter-sweet smell of salty tears. It was only then that I had noticed my tear-struck knees, thankfully with no green slime oozing over my skin. Slightly uncurling my arms from around my tucked-in legs so that my hands held my calves, I noiselessly crunched my nose and sucked in whatever was going to come out.

"What is it?" I called.

"Five more seconds in there," Hyuuga replied, making me feel like it's been millenniums (note that I didn't say forever, for forever is an awfully long time to spend in dread) since I've been alive, "and I would have no other choice but to depict of you as someone who lacks morals."

A gurgle came from deep inside my stomach, and when my throat tickled did I realize it was a small laugh. Hyuuga just called me a pervert. Great. "I'm not doing anything unsightly."

"Then do your hair somewhere else."

I didn't even have the energy to retort back.

I expected my knees to buckle and crash on each other, and I would've had to take another fifty minutes to simply get up. But right on my first try, my legs were strong enough to help get on my feet and even stronger to let me stay standing. I swapped away the hair that stuck on my forehead messily, so sure I only managed to move two strands. I didn't bother to wipe my face, for I knew it would be no help since my bright red Rudolph nose would instantly give away that I was crying. And at this point, I don't care. I'm too broken and hating myself for breaking to care about anything at all.

I turned around and grabbed the knob, twisting it weakly. Hyuuga's broad chest greeted me, but I didn't have to look up to see that he had a blunt expression laid on his face. I craned my neck towards the sky, and bingo, I was correct. "Sorry I took so long. I needed to sort some things out." I struck my vision back down the second I met his gaze. They burned into me, so calm and expectant, that it made me feel ashamed he had to look at me, probably dead ugly from bawling.

Even though, I could still feel the heat he bore into the crown of my head. "And you couldn't do that somewhere else," he stated flatly.

"No," I told him, soft and slow.

He sighed. "Well, you done yet? You and I might share rooms, but the bathroom is mine."

"Yeah, sorry." I kept my head low while I made a gesture for him to step aside. It was obvious that he'd seen it, but he didn't inch his rigid body; not one bit. Slugging my shoulders, I turned myself sideways and squeezed through the little space between Hyuuga and the wall, unfortunately knocking him feebly in the process. I murmured another sorry, but I'm positive he didn't catch it because the next sound that came abruptly after my apology was the familiar bang of the door closing shut. I looked over my shoulder, finding him already gone, and swirled back to continue my trudging ways to the other hallway door, guessing it's the bedroom.

My initial reaction when I stepped in it was not to gasp at how divided it was; one side clean with a bed, one side high off drugs or some of the sort with another bed. Instead, I quickly walked to the nearest mattress, thankful that it was placed on the organized part of the room. I could stay there for as long as I like, anyways, because the other half—with the CD's lying about and the bedcovers sprawled everywhere on the sheets—obviously belonged to Hyuuga.

I flopped down on the comforter with my face falling perfectly and evenly on the pillow which was soft enough to cushion the impact of my clumsy stumble. I let my body sink into the blankets, my skin adjusting and adding heat to the fabric around me. For a long second, I just lay there; my arms rested beside me and my legs in an acute V-form. And it was only until I heard the quiet tick-tock of an old-fashioned clock running throughout the room did I start to regain some feeling my cheeks.

I smiled, and I though to myself Thank God, because if I had to have one thing in this place that seemed to be frozen in time, it was an item to reminded me that it won't be long until a year has passed, or however many months I have to spend in this facility.

But even with its soothing ring, the back of my eyes still stung with the horror of another flood of tears coming whenever I recall Hotaru's lips moving. Words spilling out; words that I never thought I would hear being used in the same sentence directed towards me. I wanted to throw up on her, on Hyuuga, on Father, Narumi despite the fact that he did nothing wrong, and even a little on Mom, but with loads and loads and tons of respect. I feel like every last of them betrayed me. They made me think I was someone who belonged to live, someone who had actual chances of becoming normal if she tried her very best. But in reality, I'm just someone who is far from being who I thought it was.

They lied to me. In result to that, they crushed my innocent wish. _I am Sakura Mikan. A simple girl, with the biggest wish to be as normal as a fifteen year old could be. _They crushed it along with the rising hope that it'll become a dream.

God, this sucks.

When the distinct creak of the door opening again, I swallowed the urge to kick my feet multiple times against the comforter and turned so that my left cheek is what I rested upon on. I glanced south, and the view of a sideways Hyuuga infiltrated my eyes.

"What? I know I'm pretty, but can't you leave me alone for a second?" I said, my mouth scaling to a frown.

He stared at me while at the doorway, scoffed, and walked over to my body in just three, long strides. He held his hand out and just when I thought he was going to punch the sarcasm out of my brain, he reached past and over my head and grabbed something from the bedside table.

I tried not to take double-sniffs on how good he smelled, especially at a time like this. So, with much effort, I stuffed my face back into the pillow.

"You know," he said, somewhere above me, "this is where I sleep." I couldn't register in time that I flinched to attempt to hide it. "You're giving my no options here."

I used my shoulders to help push me up a little, creating enough room for my mouth to speak. "I'm not a pervert," I said, lacking the annoyance I tried to depict. "I thought the other one was your bed."

I could almost see him rolling his eyes in my mind. "I told you I'm not the only one that lives here."

"You didn't tell me that."

"I'm telling you now," he pressed on. A funny silence lulled about, my heart beating so shallowly, though I knew Hyuuga could still hear it. Then, after twenty rounds of tick-tock, he added, "Which means get off."

"Please," I said, groaning, "not now. Later, I promise."

I could feel his presence looming over me, an indescribably aura catapulting into my every nerve. Then with three sharp yet careless steps and another soft bang of the door, he disappeared along with the tension that I had little knowledge of. My shoulders loosened as a couple more joints in my bones as well. But I'm sure Hyuuga didn't easily take my plead politely, for I heard a telephone line going off from down the hallway outside.

"What?" Hyuuga's distant voice ringed, gruff and muffled. I flipped onto my back to hear the conversation I wasn't even sure I'd like to indirectly eavesdrop on, my four limbs extending farther apart from each other. I guess I might as well, since it took more than 75% of the space in my eardrums.

"Yeah, she's here…Yeah…About an hour ago…Our room…Now?" There was a longer pause. "Okay."

Not too long after the farewell, he came back into the room, this time, though, leaving the door wide open for the chilly air to waft in and prick the skin on my collar bone. I kept my stare trained on him as he strode over to the walk-in closet, stuffed his hefty structure in there, and closed the entryway. Despite the block of wood blocking my physical sight, I spotlighted my attention to where I thought he would be behind that thing.

And no, I'm not a pervert.

When he eventually came out, now wearing a different shirt which still defined his chest, I expected him to acknowledge that I remained immovable on his bed. But he didn't. The closest action he took involving me was to meet my stare briefly as he crossed the floor to the exit. He tugged at the fabric hugging his biceps carelessly, his hand ascending to try to slick his hair back, ending only in a failure for it made it twice as messy.

Without so much of a word, his figure withdrew from my sight, rounding the corner and five seconds later, the front door opened, closed. And silence.

I breathed in, held it, then out. The dorm suddenly reached a new stage of self-confinement, for the song of the clock wasn't as audible as I first heard it. Sighing, I raised a leg and kicked it down, using it as a support to aid me sit my body up-right. I swung my feet over to the edge, pushed myself off with much reluctancy, and began to leisure to the phone bolted on the wall just to the right of the bathroom.

Thump, thump, thump; what an immature sound. God, being quiet has never been so freaking noisy, I swear.

I skimmed the oily, smooth surface of the electronic, my fingers trailing each of the warm touches Hyuuga had put. I used my other hand to trace the edges of the dialer.

The call was from 714-9806-9685. Hyuuga's friend, I presume.

_"Hey. Did you get the delivery yet?"_

A boy.

_"Oh, cool, don't let her touch my collection, man."_

Axe.

_"When did she get there?…Ah, damn. Sorry I couldn't make it. Where are you guys?…Cool. Listen, I need a favor real quick. Honest, it'll only take about a minute. Can you come to the lobby?…Yeah, now. I swear, nothing will happen to Mikan Sakura….Thanks ma—!"_

It ended there.

I pushed the phone back into the port hard enough to hear the click, and with a slightly bewildered thought, I trudged to the kitchen. To think Hyuuga had friends; though I guess it was acceptable since it was his acquaintance that addressed me as "the delivery."

But all an all, it felt good to use my power again. It's been a while. Ironically, days ago I would've despised my mind-reading since it made me feel so abnormal and out of place in the world. But now, I could never ask for it anymore than I am at this second, because it's the only thing that proved my past was not one whole lie. I did live as a teenage girl with amazing abilities.

I picked up Hyuuga's plate, half-empty yet half-not-full, and tossed it gently on the sink with a clank. Without even needing the help of my functioning brain, I walked around the granite island and sat my butt down on the cushioned chair that I made contact with the minute I first entered this dorm. I tucked my legs in, both facing the same way, as I propped an elbow on the arm and rested my chin on my leveled hand. I scanned the big window to my right, next to the corner, and froze my gaze on the browness of the brown.

The miles within the miles.

The blazing, lonely sun.

The Sahara Desert.

_"You are in the Sahara Desert. I don't expect you to believe me, but take a look outside and let your intelligence make the decision. If you ever worry about sweating that prissy head of yours, don't. The exterior of the building is specially made to reflect the rays of the sun. As for where you are, Mikan; protection. You are under protection. Narumi, Hyuuga, I and others inside this facility are the only ones who know about your power, and are willing to protect you. We are specialists gathered since many years ago, training for the day when we take you back to make sure nothing harms you. The reason we couldn't return you to your father is because the guards there are far too weak. They always were. You were lucky enough to not have an attack until now, but we can't take any more risks. I, of course as the second-in-command, have much part in this as anyone else. The moment I met you, my mission was already commencing."_

Off in the far distance, I could scarcely make out the top of the bob-wired fences; sharp, edged, and maybe because it was the heat that's making my vision waver, but it seems like it was trying to keep people in, rather than keeping them out. Beyond the coiled metal was an even greater sea of golden land, rising up and descending down at the wind's whim. The sun shined harshly on everything it clear sight, and by just witnessing its wrath a keen sweat broke out on my forehead.

All this free land and not a human hand had overruling it. It reminded me so much of Michigan, how nature and balance cooperated with each other to create a vast canvas that has already been painted on. What a beautiful portrait it is. Being a small part of that portrait, I just couldn't help but feel trapped. The Sahara is such a minute perception of what the world really is, and seeing it now only uncovers my emotions of being chained down. It's like it's been years since I've breathed. Walked. Talked. Saw Father, and Jim, and Priscilla; seen their smiles, and frowns, and anger, and sheer happiness.

I held up a hand to skim the cold skin on my cheeks. It surprised me at first; it hurt even with the slightest touch I inflicted upon it. But then I remembered it was the bruise from Father's slap. It was bulging out quite a bit, tender and still progressing to one or two more stages. I pressed my hand closer, ignoring the pain that was brought in on my action. I didn't care. As much as I hate to admit it, I want to see him. I want to see Father. I don't mind if he'll hit me again, or throw me out and strip me of the label of being his daughter. I just want to see him one last time, because I don't know when I'll ever get the chance to ever again.

If I had known that everything would have taken this turn, I wouldn't have done what I've done. I would've stayed put.

_"__Never lose the reason of why you're doing what you've done."_

And then I wonder, how would it all end up if I had never ran away and across the country with Father?

_"My sources tell me that he abandoned his plan to go to New York. But ever since you've left, he's gone crazy; he's even tried getting the FBI to help look for you. Some of my subordinates are keeping an eye on him to make sure he doesn't do anything rash. But Mikan, don't take this as a sign of his affection. Remember that he probably only wants you back so he can use your powers again."_

It hurts. I sank my fingers, now balled into a fist, more into my face. It hurts, Father.

My angst loosened at the high-shrilled ring of the phone going off again. I waited an estimated second before I dropped my hand on my lap to let the blood on my cheek start flowing once more. I waited another second just listening to the sound go ring, ring, ring, ring, ring. And I think it was around the 20th chime did I lazily stood up and walked over to answer it.

"Hello?" I said into the speaker. No one responded anything back for a while, and only the booming silence and my raspy gasp quickly made me become aware of the danger that's riding on what I'm doing. I felt coaxed to destroy the handheld and go crawl under a lamp or something for my guard has been up and cautious straight to the core lately, but my unnecessary indulgence got in the way. Should I hang up? It's not too la—

There was a low, dark chuckle. "Hello."

"Who's this?" I asked. "Who are you?"

At first, I forced myself to believe that it was the tiny, tiny static over the line that drowned the person's voice; it was quiet. Even the crickets dared not to invade the tensioning bubble. But then, in an unspeakable liberty, a steel clank came on followed by a continuos cycle of _beep_s. With raised eyebrows knitted together, I held the phone out in front of me and stared at it.

Examined it.

Analyzed it.

Peered at it.

Riveted my attention to it.

The speedy split second that I tried to put the phone back in its place, I heard two similar, yet quite unlike noises; one, the receiver clicked with satisfaction as plastic met with plastic, and the _beep_s stopped. The second sound was something you'd hear in a neighborhood occupied with kids, mean geezers, and of course, baseballs and bats; glass shattering, or more specifically, windows. The hundreds of shards colliding with each other in mid air created a ear-piercing screech disturbing enough to send me back a step. Holding an arm before my face to block any incoming threat, I squinted at what in the world happened around the corner.

Across on the floor where the hallway ended and the living room began, suddenly lay bright, shining objects so small and clear, yet so visible. Coating on top of them were two massive shadows that grew larger with each heavy _thud_.

"What the? No security? Not even the wimpy ones?"

_"As of right now, Hyuuga is your temporary bodyguard. You do not leave him, nor does he leave you. If you don't like him, that's no problem since you're switching guards every month. There are around fifty people living here excluding me, Narumi, and Hyuuga. You will eventually experience the care they all put you under, and by the time you've managed to meet each individual, you will have to choose which person you want to be permanently looking after you. They are all approximately ranging around your age, with skills and techniques that make them qualified to protect your welfare. They handle guns, weapons, missiles, ropes, and anything else used in the art of assassination. But I must warn you, they are still people—er, teenagers, so they will talk back and pridefully show you who they really are, despite their perks and…stupidity."_

"I heard they were all brats."

"Serious? Ha! Getting her will be too damn easy."

And, as usual, I didn't need my brain for my feet to start reacting. The minute I snapped back out of shock and into sense, my hands were already reaching for the bedroom doorknob, desperately trying to squeeze every inch of space between me and it. Relief poured over my face as I twisted the cold metal and managed to scarcely see my chance; the entry to Hyuuga's closet where I knew of endless ways to conceal myself. But relief sadly got conned when the two shadows were now instantly fallen on my wrist, and halfway up my arm. There was a ominous presence cornering me from behind, as my inside suddenly were turned upside down, backwards, vertical and in the end, stomped on.

"Hey, there."

I knew it wasn't Hector and Vin. The fold waves in their voices were completely different, in a more sickening way.

"We're here to pick you up, your majesty."

Building up tons of fake courage and bravery, I turned my eyes toward them, glaring with as much venom I could produce under my shivering lips. I didn't say anything, mostly because I knew I would stutter and that would reveal my true emotions.

But, oh God, it was useless; my disguise faltered right when I saw each of their facial features. It was relatively hard, under all their piercing and tattoos, but that alone gave them away.

"Surprised?" the bigger man asked, a sinister grin breaking out on his chin. "I suppose you know who we are, and why we're here, correct?"

_"Now, about Hector and Vin; in general, they are spies working under people who oppose us. We've known about them and their organization (codename White) for quite sometime. We haven't physically battled against each other—I know we will for you custody soon enough— so we don't know what they're capable of. But I assure you, they are strong. It's a given because they are similar to what we are. They are specially trained, they can work swiftly with what we have in possession, and though I don't know what they can do with machines, I know they're equal in strength. Yes, they know about your power, and yes, they want you for the sole reason of committing wrong deeds. How am I sure of that? I know what I know, and you don't because it's not for you to think about. I have no doubt that they will try multiple times to abduct you from here. That's why I assigned you under Hyuuga; he's our trump card."_

"I hope you do, 'cause i'm not taking my precious time to explain it to some spoiled girl."

The one towards the back pushed the larger man aside and came strolling to me, bringing his face down to mine. "Man, you look hella like your old pops. That's trippy."

_"Your real parents go by the name Miyu and Hiroki. They had your powers, rather, you have theirs. They were good friends with your foster parents, Yuka Yukihara and Izumi Yukihara. Miyu and Hiroki were excellent mind-readers, wielding their ability to an extent that even you would be amazed. Narumi had the chance to meet and befriend them. Hiroko foresaw his, yours, and Yuka's fate, so he taught Narumi everything he knew, and told Narumi to remember it all and pass them on to you as soon as you were old enough since Hiroki himself knew he wasn't going to be able to in the future. So don't worry if you feel like you can't do much despite the fact that you already can, Narumi has some few tricks to teach you. And if you have further questions about them, ask him, since I know little of their personal existence."_

"Go away. Leave," I stated, thankful my tongue didn't tumble on the words.

"Hm, since when did you do black?" the larger man said, pulling the one in my face away from me by the shoulder, which in return earned him a scowl from his partner. "No, wait. It's just a disguise isn't it? Vin told me you were a runaway. Oh, come one, now, being raised by people like Izumi, you must know of more intelligent ways to change your appearance."

_"Yuka and Izumi were a married pair of phenomenal scientists. They were in charge of this place before Narumi was, and though I wasn't here when they ran it, I've heard stories of how the facility was peaceful and left alone. Everyone who worked with them back then was a whole big family."_

"A-are you going to take me?" I asked, already fully aware of the answer.

"First things first, I'm Julio and this is Grau," the larger man said, patting the other's back as he addressed him. "We 're supposed to, but we're under specific orders to make sure you know everything you need to know, because you'd be useless if you still think you're a Sakura."

I stared burningly at them, my eyes sweeping across each of their ear canals as I spotted a transparent device on its walls. I pursed my lips in a thinner line as I realized they had it on both of their ears.

_"You've been wondering why you can't read our minds; I can tell. And it's because of a mechanism called Outlaw, which was made by our very own Yuka and Izumi. Outlaw is something we insert into our outer ears to block our thoughts being read by people with abilities like you. These variables determine whether we only use one Outlaw, or two; how strong the mind-reader is, and how much the user wants their minds to be protected. You are tenacious, Mikan, so I would use two Outlaws if I wanted to completely nullify you. But I didn't want you to be too suspicious, so for these past years, I've only used one. For some, unknown reason, White also is in possession of this as well."_

Damn.

"So, do you know about yourself? About us? About this place? About your fake parents? About your real parents? About how they _died_?" Julio rambled. "I don't want to spend eternity here, just say you do and we'll—"

He stopped midway, a surprised grunt came from him and Grau's lips as I ducked under their arms and bolted like lightning for the kitchen. The single thought that ran through me was not _"Where the hell is Hyuuga?_" or _"I'm going to die, I'm going to die!_" Instead, overwhelming me as well, my brain kept repeating to myself _"I need a weapon."_

And the only part of the dorm where the sharpest tools were hiding are in the kitchen. Spatulas, spoons, forks, beaters; anything will do, just as long as I'm not defenseless. My pace on instinct quickly accelerated at the spine-bending inotation of a gun cocking, my endorphins kicking in, too.

"Nice try," Grau called, firing to my left and shattering an innocent vase. I yelped as my hands smacked against the back of my head which tilted down at the shot. "But even you know bullets travel faster than your meaty legs will carry you."

I peeked through the squints in my eyes, and spotted the granite island counter. A bulb immediately blinked on inside my mind, telling me to get behind that in the next two seconds. Three more blasts were fired, fortunately missing me by a frightening distance of five inches, as I leaped in the air and slid across the cool top of the island, landing chest-first on the floor with it shielding me from Grau and Julio. My breathe only now catching to itself, I heaved as my trembling hands pushed me to an up-right position, my back pressing and adjacent to the counter.

I waited for a heartbeat, and due to my stupid, daring audacity, I slid closer to the edge, slowly rounding my gaze back to the hallway where they would be standing. But as my focus found nothing, even as I scaled every part of the room, I sighed deeply. Either it was because my naiveness urged me to believe they had retreated, or that Hyuuga had magically appeared, drove them away, and disappeared again; somehow, there was a voice only I could hear saying _it's all right now_.

But when I drew my head and gaze back, I screamed, and it seemed that everything up until this moment has been a dream.

"Told ya' your meaty legs won't get you far."

I could feel my heart beat rapider and rapider as I tried to scoot back further each time Julio got closer, finding it to be futile for the counter wouldn't allow me to.

"You didn't answer my question, girl," he said, his cold breathe swirling on my nose. "Do you know?"

My hand quiveringly moved around the marble ground, searching blindly for something I could use to knock him unconscious. I was left empty-handed as a ropy grip locked my wrist and brought it up high, depriving it from getting what I needed. "L-Let go."

"Do you know?"

"I said let me go!"

"Do you know?" Julio almost shouted along with Grau.

"Let me go, let me go, let me go!"

"Do you know?" they screamed, though at different times.

I whimpered, biting my bottom lip to the point where I tasted blood. "Please. Let me go."

"They died. I can't bring you with us if you don't know what happened. I'm asking this one more time: do you know everything?"

The skin around my eyes clenched together, my throat becoming painfully dry. "I—Stop, please..."

_"Hi, Mikan! Since I'm the only one who's able to tell the story of your parent's, I'm taking over form here. Maybe you want the ropes off now? No? Okay, well, let me say this before we start; you're parents are legendary. Both pairs of them. No matter what Hotaru or Natsume say, you would've done fine despite which one brought you up. Okay? Alrighty then, let's start!_

_I was only fifteen when Yuka and Izumi found me abandoned in the streets. Without having a second thought, they took me into their home—this facility—fed me, gave me clothes, taught me, and gave me the love of a mother and father. I learned so many things in just six months; from technology, to high-level chemistry. I learned how to form atoms, and combine them to make the most effective compound I could make. I also learned of how amazing they are; Albert Einstein can only compare to one-third of their knowledge and ability. Still, modest as ever, they told me I was a genius, and often said that I would be the one to take over their business when I grew up. Little did I know how very true those words were._

_ I was friends with mostly everyone who worked here back then. They accepted me into their family and treated me like I was loved my entire life. But one day, Yuka and Izumi's special friends came to visit. Those were your parents, Mikan; Miyu and Hiroki. as like everyone else, they warmed up to me the minute we met, and it wasn't even an hour that they'd let me in their secret of being able to read minds. I wasn't surprised. Then, not being dead was even more bewildering to myself. But what intrigued me more was that little eight year old girl who always clung on her mother's skirt; never talking, but always smiling. Hiroki told me that you were their daughter, their beloved, dear daughter. You, too, had the same exact power, and sometimes when I brought that up while talking to Miyu, she'd say, 'I wish she didn't. I wish she could have been born normal, so therefore, her fate won't be as cruel as ours.' I didn't realize it in the beginning, but gradually, I learned that they were runaways, always moving from place to place. When I asked Yuka about it, she told me that you and your parents are being followed by an organization who wants you capture you, and use your ability for their selfish wishes. Yuka and Izumi tried to do everything they could to help, but Miyu and Hiroki, as kind-natured as they were, refused for they would get caught up in something they don't deserve to deal with. _

_So, there you guys were, endlessly running, seeing continents and continents, and once in a while, rarely, you came back to visit. It was the fifth time I'd met your parents that they had a different look in their eyes; so lonely and distant. Yuka and Izumi confronted them about it, but only getting a polite nod and a 'don't worry' in return. _

__You, on the other hand, remained quiet, happy, and carefree. Because of that,_ I was slowly starting to become friends with you. It started as a hello and a courtesy, grew onto a three-word conversation, leaped from that to a chat filled with smiles and glee, and soon enough, your voice is what I'd normally hear. You were such a cheerful little brat that it saddened me as well you didn't experience a child's youth. That you, so young, had to cope with fallacious living conditions. But I knew it was alright, because you had Miyu and Hirok by your side. _

_Then, the seventh time you guys came around, it was hectic. An emergency. I was woken up in the middle of the night by the alarm system blinking a dreadful red around my room. I ran outside and into the central quarters, finding Miyu and Hiroki full of cuts and injuries, barely standing by Izumi, who was working nimbly on the main computer, and Yuka cradling your unconscious, damaged body in her arms. I went up to Hiroki and asked what's wrong, but with a fleeting command, Izumi ordered me to go hide somewhere, and quick. I didn't dare disobey. I watched and listened from behind a stack of sturdy boxes as the four adults scrambled around, desperate, though back then I didn't know why. I overheard Hiroki saying, "I knew this would happen, I was prepared…Damn it all!" Yuka and Miyu stood by you, Miyu silently crying over the alarms and murmured a cycle of 'I'm sorry, Mikan, I'm sorry.' And with a sudden jolt, Hiroki stumbled over to Izumi and screamed, _

_'You take her! I already saw my fate, Miyu's fate. Only Mikan's was different; she would live! She would live if you take her far away!'_

_He was frantically trying to convince Izumi, who was shaking his head at every word Hiroki was throwing at him. 'But she's your daughter!' Izumi would reply. 'She's not like me and Yuka; I wouldn't know how to raise her correctly!'_

_All Hiroki did was smile, a bright smile in the midst of all the calamity, and tell Izumi, 'You'll do fine. I know you will. Just never lose the reason of why you're doing what you've done.'_

_And the next thing I was aware of, an enormous part of the ceiling had come crashing down as Izumi abruptly hauled me over his shoulder and ran with Yuka, who had you in her arms, ran in the direction opposite of Miyu and Hiroki. I watched with unexpected tears covering my sight as they were surrounded by countless amounts of men dressed in white, loaded with guns and equipment. A few chased after us, but I'm pretty sure Izumi's traps within the facility knocked them out._

_That was the last scene I remember of your parents. It was a brave act; like it was them against the whole freaking world. They did everything to save you, Mikan, and I just want you to be sure of that._

_The next few months went by in a flash. Izumi and Yuka, carrying on their friends' wish, planned for an operation on your brain so you would've thought that you've lived as a normal girl until your age then. They felt that it would do you good, for you can forget about your pain as they told you your parents passed away, and it would also steer your path clear from intersecting with White again. A year later after the incident, they proceeded with the operation, replacing the memories of your eight years. Instead of recalling dodging bullets and running until your lungs were sore, you believed that you were a Michigan girl, with friends and living happily. They agreed to not take away your mind-reading, because they didn't want you to completely throw your true identity away; it would do no justice to the late Hiroki and Miyu. So truthfully, only your first eight years were a lie. _

_I wanted to avenge Miyu and Hiroki. I didn't want their deaths to be pointless, for I knew White still existed, and was still after you. So independently with Yuka and Izumi's permission, I went back to the Sahara, rebuilt the facility with the same, as well as new, members—like Hotaru and Natsume— and as we are today, we stand for your sole protection in place of your heroic parents. I was nineteen when I officially became the new leader. Despite my young age, I was capable._

_I haven't heard from Yuka and Izumi until four years later, when White attacked again which I later learned caused Yuka's death. Rage lit up within me, but as an older man, I set my feelings aside and worried about your well-being initially. I tried to contact Izumi to ask how you guys were getting by, but I didn't get to connect with him as soon as I had hoped. When I finally did, he was someone whom I wasn't familiar with. I knew the death of his wife impacted him greatly, but I didn't know it would break him so much. As days and months passed, I apprehended that he was unfit to be your guardian, and I offered to take you with me, so I can teach you the things Hiroki would've wanted me to, so you can learn more about what you can do weilding your power. But Izumi was not himself. He actually held you captive as he refused to hand you over. He told me that if I dare to step onto the same country as you and him, he'd take your life. I couldn't believe it, but I didn't want to take risks. As a last minute effort, I sent Hotaru as a spy. She made sure you were well and alive, and though she ignored the fact that you were beaten—Hotaru...—she helped you through the three years with Izumi."_

I wanted to cry so badly that it hurt, but for some odd reason, tears didn't come sprawling down my cheeks even with my hasty plead. There was a counterpart to me, telling and somehow holding myself back from snapping once more.

"So, you do know," Julio whispered, catching the expression spread out on my face. "Wasn't so bad was it?"

"I hate you, I hate you so much. Don't touch me with the same hands that killed my parents," I spat against clenched teeth.

He sighed, finally leaving the bubble within the range of my personal space. "Fine." There was another gun cocking. "Have it your way."

Matching so well with a dire snicker, a seering pain shot up from halfway down my arm as my scream choked and disintegrated inside my mouth.

* * *

><p>Ah, man, the last part was really hard to write because I had to weave it what Hotaru and Narumi told Mikan in there. If there's anything I missed, or any questions that I still didn't clear up, feel free to tell me, review about it, or inbox me, I'll gladly reply(:<p>

Sorry for the anti-climactation of it all. When you guys were waiting to find the truth about Mikan, you'd think it'd be like...*drum roooooll* BAM! But its not, and I'm sorry, I just didn't wanna go down that cheesy path. /: But don't you think it's funny how Natsume thinks _Mikan_ is the pervert? I thought that was a little clever, only found out towards the end that I did that.(: And some of you might have noticed, but this has some similarities to my other story called _Assassins By Day._ Check that one out if you want a story full of action and of course romance!

Soo, summarizing:

1) Mikan is inside a facility in the Sahara Desert.

2) Narumi is in charge of the facility, and Hotaru and second-on-command.

3) Mikan is under the care of Natsume, and every month, she switches bodyguards until she's met every one of them. When that happens, she picks who she wants to be her permanent bodyguard.

4) Her father didn't go to New York.

5) Hector and Vin are from an orginization called White.

6) White is like the facility Mikan is in, though it's her enemy.

7) White killed Mikan's true parents.

8) Mikan's true parents are named Miyu and Hiroki. They had mind-reading as well, and they knew so many other techniques than Mikan. They often traveled around the world to get away from White.

9) Miyu and Hiroki were best friends with Izumi and Yuka, Mikan's foster parents who were also brilliant scientists.

10) Since Hiroki could foretell the future, he saw that White would eventually kill him and Miyu, but he saw that Mikan will live if she goes far away with Izumi and Yuka.

11) So he taught Narumi all of the techniques he knew, despite that Narumi didn't have any powers. He hoped he would remember it so Narumi could teach Mikan when she's old enough.

12) The night White caught up to Miyu and Hiroki and killed them, Yuka, Izumi, Narumi, and Mikan ran away.

13) A year later, Yuka and Izumi performed an operation that tampered with Mikan's memories, making her believe she led a normal life until she was eight.

14) Narumi wanted a backup plan to keep Mikan safe and avenge Miyu and Hiroki, so he rebuilt the facility and gather new and old members. Hotaru and Natsume are new.

15) White killed Yuka.

16) Narumi tried to take Mikan back after he found out that Izumi had changed, but Izumi refused and held her captive (without Mikan knowing).

17) Hotaru was a spy sent by Narumi to make sure Izumi didn't hurt her too much, or get her into something dangerous.

18) The reason why Mikan hasn't been reading minds lately is because everyone around her has a device called Outlaw, which blocks her from other's thoughts. White has it too.

THERE YOU GOOO!(:

And speaking of anti-climactic plots, anyone read the latest chapters of Fairy Tail? Okay, before any of you come barging in and saying "This belongs on the Mangafox Chapter Discussion Forum" and shit like that, go away. I don't want you here. But seriously! That was such a disappointment -,- POOR LUCCYYY!

AND OH MY GOSHHH! Have you guys ever heard of Junko Furuta? Look her up, please, and spread the word about her. I pray for her every night now ever since I heard of her tragic story, and I hope you guys will support her from above as well. God bless you Junko Furuta.

Kay, remember, any questions and confusion, just hit me up and I'll gladly clear that up for you(:

Thanks for reading!

Stay smexy!


	10. Walking On Death's Cliff

Hey, hey, hey! Here's another chapter in _Take My Hand _and I must say, I have mixed feelings about this chapter /: Some parts are good, while others are just shit from a baby turtle. But thanks for reading this through with me, and thanks so much for waiting, like, a month for me to finally update. (: Enjoy.

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><p><em>Chapter 9: Walking on Death's Cliff<em>

He came. Thank God he came. But the thing is, he came just a little bit late.

"H-Hyuuga," I stammered, squeezing my upper arm where a bullet drilled itself underneath my skin. The excess blood slipped between my shivering fingers, dropping on the suddenly hot, blazing floor.

In the blink of an eye, right after the shot Julio fired, Hyuuga materialized from thin air and was within my reach in a matter of no time. The sound was still ringing when swooped down in front of me and easily pushed Julio towards the opposite counter where his head met Grau's nose. In one hand, Hyuuga had a deadly Desert Eagle pointed towards the two, unknowing yet of the threat, and his other veiled my self, protecting me. All of it was done in graceful, godlike motions that it made me think: it's going to be okay. Despite I felt like I could have an amputation, maybe it would turn out to be okay...since Hyuuga's here.

"How deep?" he said in a low voice, turning his mouth slightly to whisper in my ear.

I bit my lip to supress the waves of nausea that came nonstop. "T-To the left of my humorous. Barely g-grazed." But truth is, it felt like my arm was going to snap right off from its socket.

"Natsume, how should we get rid of them?"

I slowly looked to my left where the voice had originated from. The feeling of peril dispersed when my hazels met these kind, calm, too-gentle-of-an-indigo color. There, a blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy stood in combat position, also wielding a gun that seemed like he's prepared to fire anytime. He has his lips pursed in a thin line, which was a wrong move on his part because his obvious dimples made him look like a little boy out of place. Like a military professional that promoted too far high up. Right off the bat, I knew this boy was who Hyuuga talked with over the phone; the reason why I have a bullet inside my veins.

I'll feel the bitterness soon, after the unbearable pain subsides.

"I'll do it," Hyuuga replied, scooting more in my lead. "Take her to the Infirmary. She needs to be treated." I ignored the typical tone that weaved into his words, as if I was merely inflicted with so much of a shallow cut. I knew I needed to get out of not for my well-being, but to steer clear of Hyuuga's way so he can do his job perfectly with no distractions.

Both Gray and Julio were balanced upright now. They were in the middle of loading their guns when the blonde-haired boy came striding to my side, helping Hyuuga shield me so that all my sides were secured from harm.

"I'm not a man to hit little kids," growled Julio, resting his machinery atop his shoulder with uncalled comfortability. Grau crossed his arms across his chest, tucking his under his armpits. They both put forth a challenging expression.

From an angled view of his profile, I saw the ends of Hyuuga's lips tug into a playful, conceited smirk. "That's my line."

"Natsume, there's no time for this. I have to get her to the infirmary _now_. She's bleeding like hell," Blondie added on, already reaching for my wrist. I pulled back unconsciously when our skin met, but it was to no avail because he grasped it again, though with twice force and brutality.

"I know. I'll back you up while you make a run for it."

"Hey," said Grau, loud and drawled out. "We can hear everything you're planning. Come on, man, you really think we're that weak?"

He wouldn't evacuate us this fast, since I thought he'd give us time to plan our safely-routed escape. But this is Hyuuga after all; he wouldn't be without his unpredictability. Rushed, he commanded, "Go, go!"

"No, w-" I began, but the pain immediately took over once Blondie yanked my arm upwards, forcing me to run along with him. We jumped over Hyuuga's shrugged shoulders, and the second I felt a pressure against my foot I knew I'd hear it from him later for kicking his head. I had probably taken two painful leaps when guns were fired, creating an ominous sound that made the hair on my neck stand. Blondie kept pulling me, urging me to hastily pick my pace up. I tried to tell him to stop, to tell him the arm he was yanking was the severely injured arm, but before I can scream it, he does so in my stead.

"Sorry, I have no choice," he told me. "It's either to hurt right now and live, or to hurt for three seconds and die. And _I'm_ the one making that decision, just to be clear."

The sides of my squinted eyelids allowed me to see the giveaway. It was only a straight path to round the kitchen corner and we'll be out of this battlefield. "What about Hyuuga?" I yelled, the comprehension that we're leaving him behind flooding me only now.

"He'll be—"

"Hey!" someone hollered. Julio's scratchy voice was so close. It encouraged me to push my legs than what they're used to even with the heavy pounding of my wound. I tried to dodge the slippery remains of my blood that spilled onto the ground, but after a whizzing bullet barely missed the side of my head, I had a feeling that there should be other things I should try to dodge.

"He'll be fine, worry about yourself!" Blondie finished with a frustrated breathe as he, too, avoided the flying threat.

"Bu—"

"Ruka, duck!"

He quickly turned, eyes wild. "Hurry, ge—!"

He didn't even reach me. He lunged at me agile and speedy, but he didn't reach me. The closest...Ruka...came was when his fingertips were five feet away from my face. Emotions swirled about on his angelic aspect; caution, danger, security, alarm, instinct. All of them dissolved in the blinding white light that came way too quick for anyone's satisfactory. In his last minute reaction, he showed me a face that whatever was going to happen next—whatever it may be—it wouldn't be good.

He showed me horror. And something tells me it's wasn't for himself.

In one half of a millisecond, I remember the sensation of being airborne so suddenly, as if my body was salad being tossed in midair with knives and sharp pins. The other half is when I find myself sprawled on the floor, so much more parts and legiments hurting that I wasn't so sure there was a place that _wasn't_ damaged.

There were suddenly dust everywhere; around me, around the fallen debris which I quickly noticed were pieces to the wall, and around Blondie who was unmoving with a bleeding gash above his right eyebrow. His eyes were open, looking at me so intensely as if he was giving crucial orders, even in his fallacious condition. Near him, I saw a pair of ear devices lying about. Outlaws.

_'Go. Run away. Get out of here, hurry.'_

_I'm trying_, I telepathized, though to myself. _I'm trying so hard, but it's not as easy to get up after a bomb exploded right next me._

The air grew thick and smoggy. Every time I inhaled to catch my departing breathe, a jerking pang of something pricking my heart traveled in circles in my chest. My eyes were on the verge of tears, not because of the torment, but of the irritating oxygen. I had to force them to stay half-open to watch what else would occur in this dirt-white room of crisis.

Ruka wasn't looking so well either from afar. His breathe came in short and abrupt, and he lay limp for I saw that a few joints in him weren't in their correct place. Still, through the agony that twisted his face, his gaze never left mine; unwavering, ordering, guarding. As if his influence was great, I tried to do my part and tell myself to stop hyperventilating, to stop being overly-dramatic of the fact that I almost died because I didn't. But it proved to be useless the minute the air layered another heavy sheet, and I was no longer able to clearly see Ruka, my only security.

I dug my arms under me, laying them on top of each other. With gritted teeth, I used them to ascend myself as I dragged my knees across the floor to level my entire torso. My hair flittered around the sides of my face, framing it carelessly. I gasped when I saw the hints of auburn that showed the curly tips. I didn't know my original hair color would come back so quick; maybe I need to re-dye it once more.

A sharp pain ran down my arm the same time a trail of blood did. I didn't dare falter, for I knew if I collapsed right now, I would never find the energy to rise back up again. I drew my eyebrows together and bore with it for the being. People get shot everyday. Just because I'm a kid, a girl, an heiress, and a mind-reader doesn't mean I'm an exception.

I turned to look at Ruka. I, at least, was able to barely stand up; he took the full blow. I'm worried that he might've covered me too much despite the risk of his life. And with his infliction, it's no doubt the amount of blood he's losing is a horrifying number.

When I glanced at him, my heart leapt in my throat almost instantly. Upon his back that was blanketed of dust and small debris, a dark, sturdy shadow came over, getting closer and closer to him by the impatient millisecond.

Oh no, no, no.

I pierced daggers in his eyes, encouraging him to get up and fight or else he would suffer more than he would if he stayed down. But he was already drifting out of consciousness, his eyelids half-shut at this point. Even if he recovered in the very last second, it's a given that his broken arms probably won't get him very far. Ruka can't do anything.

Maybe, can I?

I made a spontaneous plan—if he stepped another towards Ruka, I'd spring my back leg right into his kisser, then his groin. I'd regret this later. I really would. But I'd regret not doing anything to save him even more. The man's footsteps stampeded against the wooden floor. Slow and ominous. I knew I'd regret not thinking about my consequences, about what kind of danger I'll in if I go through with this. Oh, how I'd regret _all_ of this later.

But then again, I've been screwing up lately, here and there, to and fro. I can't do anything about it because it's the past, and I should know very well that it isn't something I should try to tamper with. Even if it's possible, I don't think I wish to. A fact shone on me like a heaven light that I have never taken note of before; my mistakes are mine. They are mine alone to burden and sin for. So relatively speaking, i don't regret anything. And from what I've been taught—er, read in the fairytale books like the hopeless romantic I am—saving is a proud act. It's not uselessly dying for you selfish will; it's giving life. That's not sinful, right? I take it back, I won't regret this.

I opened my mouth, shut it, then opened again. I prepared my legs. "Don't come any clo—"

The man darted past me, dropping on his knees besides Ruka. He took his head in his hands an carefully turned him so that the man could take a good look at the gash. Though his raven-black hair veiled down to his eyebrows and covered just the tips of his lids, I still caught the mere sight of a beautiful red. Fierce, yet calm. Loose, yet so, so, so obviously guarded. It was a beautiful, disgusting hue that fit so wonderfully, perfectly in the globe of human eyes.

The sensation of my blood circulating warmly made its way through my limbs. With a small, secondhand smile, I watched the muscles on Hyuuga's back flex and deflate swayingly.

The relief, bare and fruitful, in me was so overwhelming that I didn't care I stumbled gracelessly flat on the floor. It was even great enough to drive my thoughts away from my arm, which throbbed to no end because it was what I fell on first.

I coaxed the energy in my eyes to make them stay ajar. I could already tell that this kind of Hyuuga—helpful, worried, caring—would be someone I would never see for a long time. His hands worked around Ruka as his eyes traveled up and down his injury. Ruka stared at him helplessly, close to lulling into a bottomless slumber.

_'Natsume...Mikan..Sakura...she's injured...'_

Honestly, Ruka, I'm content. Don't say anything, please, you're far worse.

I didn't know what was wrong with me. I'm in a room with four strangers, armed and trained to kill. I still had no idea what happened to Julio and Grau, or why they suddenly seemed to disappear. A bomb exploded ten feet behind me. I have been shot. I don't trust anyone in a mile radius. I didn't know what was wrong with me, but when I saw Hyuuga come to his friend's aid, something inside my heart warmed up and tell me _It's okay._ When his mouth twitched at the sight of endless bruises—_You'll be fine. _When Ruka smiled a half-hearted smile at him—_It's all alright. _When they both turned to look at me—_You're free to go._

So I believed it, and I fell into a deep, deep sleep.

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><p>Maybe it's not such a good idea to wake up. Maybe I could continue to sleep until the years catch up to me, eventually triggering my death. I could avoid the stress that keeps building and building with every passing hour. I wouldn't have to deal with Hotaru and her explanation on why she should still be my friend, or White chasing me to my grave, or experiencing guilt for eternity if Ruka ended up dying from his head injury. I could avoid all that bullshit, if I could just continue to sleep.<p>

It was just really too bad that I had ears.

"Grau and Julio?"

When I came to—of course, absorbing my hysteria down to where I wouldn't jolt—I was instinctively aware of many things. Things like a soft bed supported my weight from under my limp body. I was too exhausted to look, but I'm sure, somewhere around me, there was a distinct beeping sound of a monitor. The air was very lucid, and warm, and if I took another second to feel it, there was a serene aura that lulled about, dulling my keen senses. The most obvious one were the tones of humans.

"—you doing? You're in charge if her, which means you're supposed to be with her at all ti—"

"He knows—it's my fault. I called him out because I needed help with something."

_Narumi. Ruka._

"Oh? And is that so special that you could risk Mikan's life for it?"

"Uh—No...no sir."

"Relax, Narumi. She's breathing."

_..Hyuuga._

"Breathing! Right, 'cause when people are breathing, they're healthy, fine, and completely not broken. You know, people can get in comas?"

An irritated sigh broke. "Look, what's done is done. It's useless making such a big deal out of it."

_Shut up,_ I wanted to curse them, but what came out was a small whine that I guessed erupted from my lips.

Almost shocking me, a whipping slash of air flew in my direction."Oh, Mikan!" A pair of hands clasped together sharply. "You're okay!"

I blinked one, two, three times to pry my eyes open, though I wasn't sure it did it any justice whatsoever. Everything was blurry, way too blurry for my liking. My anxiety rocketed when my hands shot up to rub them only to make matters worse, and when I thought I was completely done for, the words came out of me faster than I could comprehend them: "Am I blind?"

Narumi's cackling laugh boomed. "No, no dear. You're just flash blinded for a short while. Your retinal pigment experienced bleaching. Try to ignore it, and you'll be alright. Here." He locked my wrists in a amiable grip and led them away from my face. "You shouldn't do that."

It didn't take long for the annoyance to creep upon my pursed lips."Where..?" Neither did it take long for me to understand I won't be talking anytime soon. My jaw ached tremendously with just the word and the hoarse whisper that trailed after it.

"You're in the hospital, sweetie. Don't worry, the doctors have treated you already, including that bullet. It's a hairline fraction that miraculously missed your bone by the centimeter...though I'm sure it meant to," Narumi said gently, muttering the last part but I heard it with the utmost effortlessness. "You're going to be hurting for the next few days. We'll try to lessen it as much as we can by giving you painkillers, but it'll be bad if you take them regularly so you're going to have to endure the rest."

"Ngh...What's wrong with me?"

Someone sarcastically scoffed, which was immediately followed by, "Natsume!" and I'm far too used to it now to miss the sound of a punch.

"Don't touch me," came a low growl.

"You have a slight concussion. The doctors had to stitch the rear back of you head since some glasses scraped against it. A few broken bones, a sprained ankle, heavy bruises that'll disappear within the month, possibly a few scars here and there, and this goes without saying, but there's also the bullet."

As if on cue, the early signs of agony blew up where the extracted bullet left an empty space. A high hiss escaped, only making my face hurt even more.

"Don't get up," a husky voice commanded. "You'll have to stay in bed for a week."

The absurdity. The insane absurdity. The person who knows my body best is myself alone, and even I must scowl at the unbelievable truth he spoke. "A week? You sure you didn't subtract forty-five days from that?"

Oh, _oh—_okay, don't talk as much.

"A week," Hyuuga confirmed.

"Mikan. Don't take our doctors lightly. They saved your life," said Narumi. "You'll be good as new in no time."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course they are."

"You?" I said, making a feeble attempt to point my finger at him since my mouth couldn't form the words.

He paused. "I am."

"...Thank you," I said, sighing. I hid my doubt.

"I'll give them the message." I felt a weak smile pull at my lips because I figured he'd be smiling as well.

The mattress shrunk four inches down around my kneecaps, creating a high-pitched squeaky sound. "So," started Ruka, sitting besides me. He laid his hand softly on mine above the sheets, "how are you feeling?"

"Horrible." I almost wished I didn't hold my scornful snicker in. "Everything hurts. I'm gonna die."

_'You have gone past the appearance of corps, Mikan Sakura. You are a zombie.' _"You're alright. You look like what an heiress does, just more naturally since you're with no makeup."

I frowned. "You lost your Outlaws when that bombed caved. I'd appreciate it if you need to lie, then at least try," I confided, stretching my jaw.

He jerked in his seat. "Wha—" No later did he begin to shuffle uncomfortably. "Um, sorry, it's my fault. You're obviously angry and I have no right to blame you for it and i shouldn't h-have excuses, but, thing is, I didn't know they were coming, and I-I needed help with s-so..."

He went about few moments with his distressed attitude, stumbling over and over his words each time he got nearer to his point. Every shiver I felt in his hand sent another tremor up my spine; a melancholy tremor. This was a guy who held a gun at another, and was ready to shoot it. This was a guy who was still alive when blood showered every inch of his skin; but then again, I was like that too. Nonetheless, this was a guy who doesn't even know me, but was willing to protect me. It's crazy—they're crazy; these kids that are probably no older than me working here. I know this one accident won't make me give him my trust and it's probably going to take a couple of months before I can even consider him a friend, but I also know he saved me; he was prepared to stain his hands for me, shed blood so mine wouldn't.

"Hey," I said, saving him from making himself seem more idiotic. "I'm kidding. Thanks, for saving me."

He let out a relieved breathe. "But it is my fault."

"I know." The more and more I talked the less I thought about what hurt and what didn't. "But it's mine too. I should've known how to protect myself." The biggest realization pinned my mind the next heartbeat. "By the way, I'm Mikan Sakura."

"Ruka Nogi," he said, playing along. "Nice you meet you."

I smiled. "So? You're not injured?"

"Me? Injured? Natsume's punch hurt more."

"He punched you?"

"Only when I was about to be unconscious. He does that—when we're out on missions together and I'm about to die or something _tragic _like that—" There was a subtle hint of a playful tone "—he hits me so I'll stay awake and therefore, alive."

"Ah, but he knows his limits," said Narumi, somewhere far now. "Right Natsume?"

I must've missed his answer since the one who spoke next again was Narumi, "Okay, well, now that I'm sure Mikan is fine, Ruka, come with me. I still need to have them finish the check-up on your ribcage. They said to come back within an hour or so. And I have to report this to Hotaru. Oh, dear, Hotaru." The door clicked open as Ruka squeezed my hand tenderly for a goodbye. "Dear, dear Lord, help us."

"Natsume, be careful with her," warned Ruka. "They probably won't be ba—"

"I know."

"I'll talk to Hotaru to make sure she knows exactly what happened, so rest assured. Bye."

When he left the room with Narumi, I swallowed my casual facade and furrowed my eyebrows together when I finally took notice of the torment rupturing my insides. Everything really did hurt, but I didn't want to make it so obvious because Ruk—Nogi strikes me as the type to readily blame himself for all that ends bad if he was involved in it. I don't know him well enough to actually care about his feelings, it's just that I can deal without his paranoia for now.

There were two slow steps to my right as I felt a warm contact touch my cheek.

I flinched at the sudden twinge, then came to relax as I brought my face closer into the hot graze, growing to feel comfort in it. "How is it?" I asked, directing my question to no one, but particularly someone. "Is the bruise purple or green?"

"It's not bad," replied Hyuuga.

"But it's throbbing."

He took his hand away, as well as the pounding pulse. "It's my hand."

"Why? What's wrong?"

It took me a few connections to realize he would never reply back. Hyuuga rarely replies back. And because he's forcing me to hear the unbearable sound of the clock at a time where it's the sole melody I don't want to ring in my ears, I made a decision to never converse with him when we're alone.

I sighed."I think I deserve to know what happened to Grau and Julio."

I was able to go through five rounds of clenching and unclenching my bed sheets when he said, "They're dead."

"You killed them?" I asked, surprised that what he said didn't surprise me first.

"No."

"You didn't kill them?"

"I did."

"But you just said—"

"I lied."

God, he's really starting to annoy me. "Ever heard of being considerate to the ill? Maybe you should try it." When the burning glare of blazing eyes shot in my direction I immediately knew that was a wrong line, for it's the trigger that would easily lead into an arguement I'm sure I won't be able to win against him, at least not in this condition. Even so, I couldn't stop my useless mouth. "Look, it's just you and me right now and whatever you think, _it's just us_. It's either gonna be me talking or you. I've already done my—" I drew in a sharp breathe as a shock traveled up my arm, which eventually receded. "—I've done my share so it's your turn."

"For an ill person," he exhaled, "you talk a lot."

"They say smiles are the best medicine. Care to entertain me?"

"It's time to take your pills."

I glowered. Well, as much as a temporarily blind person can. "No."

"Open your mouth."

"No."

"Open your damn mouth."

I felt a pressure tug on the outer surface of my lips. "Don't you even think of shoving them—"

"Shut up and take your meds."

I scoffed. "Ha-ha, that's a funny contradiction, Hyuuga."

He drew his hand away once more. "Quit being such a fucking brat and take your medicine. I have to be somewhere."

"And what? Leave me again so I can be attacked _again_ and possibly die? Oh sure, I'd love to pop that thing in my mouth now. What's with you, anyways? Do you just love to ignore whatever people tell you to do?"

He clicked his tongue against his teeth."You're blaming me for this." I wondered why when he said that I expected a string of frustration to come out, but none did. Then I wondered why that annoyed me even more.

My anger piqued."No, I'm blaming myself for being so helpless against military trained goons who know nothing but the art of killing someone. I'm blaming myself for not being prepared for this, and I blame myself for not seeing it coming. Yeah, I'm totally blaming myself." Before he can get in a word, which I'm not so sure was his intention, I continued. "I'm totally blaming myself for not being as strong as my birth parents. I'm totally blaming myself for not killing those bastards with my own hands."

For a while he didn't say anything, which is where the problem lies because it gave me time to think about what I had just blurted out, and how much it has been truly affecting me, and how I changed from this sweet girl who coped with the accident to this total bitch whom I didn't even know was waiting to be released. I tried opening my mouth—hoping nothing stupid or relentless comes out—to distract him, but he, in a steady, secure voice, said, "That's better.

"What?"

"Nothing. I'm not going anywhere."

"...What?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

And it was those words, those four simple words that brought me back to my senses. What was I doing? Getting in a fight with Hyuuga? I wanted to beat myself up for thinking I could release all my angst on him, him who was my savior.

_Slash Grim Reaper._

I pushed my head further into my pillow. "Sorry," I murmured. "I'm just…not used to big guys coming after with guns and bombs. I promise the next time this happens, I won't be such a brat."

"It's time for you to take your medicine."

I weakly snorted. "I never got to say this, but thanks. What did you say though, before you said you weren't leaving? I didn't catch it."

His stare couldn't be anymore smoldering, and though his mind was secluded from my powers, I could already tell what he wanted to say.

"Okay, okay." I held out my outstretched palm to him. "I know you'll try choking me, so I'll the painkillers myself."

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><p>Yeah, yeah, don't worry, Mikan and Natsume won't be the usual "I hate you so much! Get out of my life!" kind of crap. I'm thinking of making their relationship really refreshing and special. (: Thanks for reading my stuff guys, even if I take like a month to update! -,-<p>

Stay smexy!


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